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The rain was cold.  This time of year, the rain was always cold.  She knew the rain was cold, but she couldn’t feel it.  She was numb, inside and out.  There was something peaceful about it.  It was calm.  It was still.  She couldn’t feel the rain, couldn’t hear it as it hit the pavement and her skin.  It was like being in a bubble.  Everything went away and there was just…nothing.  And nothingness was far better than the alternative.

Apparently, she wasn’t completely incapable of feeling, because a brush of warmth against her arm brought her back and suddenly the pounding of the rain was almost deafening.  She glanced to the side to find that it was Lisa Cuddy who had invaded her moment and her personal space.  Remy decided that maybe she didn’t mind so much.

The older woman appeared to be lost in her own thoughts, but Remy knew better.  Cuddy’s eyes flicked in her direction every so often, keeping tabs on her and trying to intuit the reason she was standing in the cold rain in the dark of night.  Cuddy’s curls were falling limp and her blouse was damn near see through by now, but still she said nothing, eyes roaming over the parking lot and ignoring the fact that Remy was staring.

Eventually, Remy gave up and turned her eyes forward again.  Try as she might, she couldn’t regain the sense of nothing, couldn’t block out the press of Cuddy’s arm against her own.  Not as warm as before.  And damn it, now she felt guilty.

“How’s House?” she asked after a moment.  Cuddy scoffed.

“No offense, but I rather doubt he’s the reason you’re out here.”  Remy said nothing, watching as a car drove by.  Something about the proximity of a stranger made her uneasy, but the vehicle was gone soon enough.  “He’s the same,” Cuddy finally murmured.  “Is this about Amber?”

“No.”  It might sound heartless, but she hadn’t been close to Amber.  She’d only known her as a competitor, as Cutthroat Bitch, and while she was sorry that she had died, she wasn’t going to miss her all that much.  Still, it had served as something of a catalyst, had reminded her that regardless of whether or not one had Huntington’s, the universe could still conspire against you, could take your life at any moment.  And so, regardless of whether or not she had Huntington’s, she should be living life to its fullest every day.  So why not know?  So she had taken the test, and now here she was, standing in the rain trying to let it soak in.  Not that it had, of course.  She’d only managed numb thus far.

Remy gathered her courage, drawing a deep breath and pressing her arm a little more firmly against the woman next to her.  Blue eyes met her own.  “Do you want to get a drink?”  The patter of the rain went away again as she watched Cuddy search her face, obviously uncertain of her intentions.  Truthfully, she wasn’t even certain what she was aiming for; she just knew that she didn’t really want this moment to end, and keeping Cuddy out here in the rain wasn’t really fair.

“Not like this,” Cuddy said with a smirk, indicating the fact that they were both soaked.  Right.  The rain.  She raised a hand, watching as droplets fell from her fingertips.  “But let’s go change and…make it dinner instead, and you’ve got yourself a deal.  It’s been a long few days and alcohol sounds good right about now.”


Cuddy wasn’t immediately visible inside her office.  Remy paused and frowned.  She turned to leave in search of the older woman, but then noticed that the light was on in the small private bathroom that connected to the reception area of Cuddy’s office.  The door was open, so she cautiously moved closer.  Cuddy’s eyes spotted her in the mirror before she could even say anything.  A warm smile stopped her in her tracks.  Well, that and the fact that Cuddy had redressed in yet more business clothes.  Remy was suddenly extremely conscious of the casual nature of the scrubs she was now wearing.  She crossed her arms.

“Get caught in the rain often?”

“No,” Cuddy allowed with a chuckle.  “But bodily fluids are a job hazard around here, so…”  She was currently retouching her makeup, and if it weren’t for the fact that her hair was still damp, Remy wouldn’t have known that she’d been so recently soaked.  She felt disheveled by comparison and tugged on her haphazard ponytail.  She felt a bit better when Cuddy grabbed a hair elastic and threw her own hair into a high ponytail, declaring that her hair was due to start frizzing any moment now that it was drying.  It was less sophisticated than the look she was used to on Cuddy, but appealing in a way that was entirely different than the lacy camisole and hint of cleavage that peaked from beneath her jacket.  And the way her calves looked in those heels.  And the way…Remy shook her head.  That was dangerous territory, and she shut it down, forcing her eyes to more neutral territory.  Cuddy was watching her in the mirror, but shifted her attention as soon as she caught Remy’s eyes.  What was that about?  “Anywhere in particular you’d like to go?”

“Somewhere where they won’t mind the scrubs.  With alcohol.”

“Right.  The important part.”  Cuddy was smiling again as she gathered her purse.  “I know a place.  Come on, I’ll drive.”


‘A place’ turned out to be something that seemed part café, part bar, which served their needs perfectly.  More to the point, it looked like a café, and probably was one during the day, but right at the moment, most people here were drinking.  Still, food was available even at this time of night, which was a definite bonus considering that neither of them had probably eaten much in the past few days and drinking on an empty stomach was rarely a good idea.  Especially when you were out with your boss – no, your boss’s boss – to whom you happen to be attracted, and you have a big secret to keep.

Along the way, she’d learned that Cuddy drove a nice car – an Audi – and that car happened to be a manual.  Hot.  Then there had been the umbrella – Cuddy had insisted that they not get soaked this time, not that Remy had really argued too much about the opportunity to be pressed against her again.

Now there was the warmth of alcohol (which didn’t really count as feeling, but seemed somehow better than the sober kind of numb) and the soft lighting playing over Cuddy’s face as she tried to make conversation, then watched her with worry when that more or less failed.  The smiles had gone away, replaced by thoughtful frowns.  Thirteen ordered another drink.

“Are you always this quiet or am I just that boring?”

“You’re…I’m sorry.  You’re not boring.”  Cuddy was silent for a moment, stirring her drink and watching Remy pick at her food.

“Which brings me back to something’s obviously bothering you, but you obviously don’t want to talk about it, which leaves me at a bit of a loss.”

“Are you asking as my boss?”

“No,” Cuddy allowed.  “Not unless it starts affecting your work.”  That was good to know.  Somehow, the notion that Cuddy cared was comforting.  Maybe just the fact that anyone cared – it meant she wasn’t totally alone in the world.  “Why were you out there, anyway?”  Remy shrugged.

“I like the rain.”

“Weren’t you cold?”  Another shrug.

“Couldn’t feel it if I was.  Maybe.”  Cuddy was watching her again, head tilted to the side just slightly.  “What?”  Cuddy shook her head.

“Nothing.  I’m just intrigued.”  Remy raised a curious eyebrow.  “You’ve got so much going on in there, but do you ever share any of it?”

“No.  Habit, I guess.”

“So break it.  Tell me something.”  Was that a dare?  The glint in Cuddy’s eyes said that maybe it was; an attempt to spark her competitive nature.  It worked.  The desire was there, but when Remy reached for something – anything – personal to share, the only words she could find were ‘I have Huntington’s.’

“I…am really boring,” she finally said.  “I have no life.  Work is pretty much it.”

“I know the feeling.”  Remy’s drink was almost empty.  Again.  She flagged down their waiter and asked for another.  She shot a questioning glance at Cuddy and her still not empty first drink, but the older woman waved the thought away.  She picked at her food a bit more until her drink arrived, then stared dully into that.  She knew that Cuddy was probably watching her again, but she didn’t – or maybe couldn’t – look up.  The weight of her secret was beginning to hit her, and she could feel the beginnings of panic trying to force it out of her.  But Cuddy was probably the last person she should tell.  Well, after House, of course.  And Kutner and Taub, who would tell House and possibly Cuddy as well.  On second thought, she minded the thought of Cuddy knowing less than anyone else she could think of.  Cuddy wouldn’t tell anyone, wouldn’t tease her about it.  Might fire her, though.  Doctor who’s losing control of her mind and her body – not exactly top of her list of most desirable qualities in an employee.  Still…

“I have Huntington’s.”  Damn it.  Well, the cat was out of the bag now.  She glued her eyes to her drink, carefully not looking up.

“What made you decide to take the test?”  Remy’s head shot up in surprise, her head spinning a little from the sudden motion.  It took a second for Cuddy to come into focus.  “Believe it or not, there’s not much that goes on in that hospital that I don’t know about eventually.  Even when it involves House…though eventually sometimes takes a little longer with him.”  A brief, quiet laugh escaped.

“Amber,” she answered after a moment.  “For a long time, I used the possibility of Huntington’s to make myself take chances, but I could die tomorrow whether or not I have it, so I should be taking those chances anyway, and at that point, why not know?”  Cuddy nodded in understanding, but didn’t otherwise reply.  This time, it was Remy’s turn to wonder what her companion was thinking.  “I can have my letter of resignation on your desk tomorrow if you want.”

“Remy, it could easily be ten or twelve years before you even begin showing symptoms, and your mind will be sharp for longer than that.  I know that you know that.”  Remy nodded.

“I just don’t want to be a liability.”  Cuddy actually laughed.

“You work for House and you think that you’re the liability?”  Despite herself, Remy smiled and shook her head.  “I mean, if you want the time for something else, by all means, but don’t think that you have to quit just because the test was positive.”

“Thank you.”  And she meant it.  Very much.  She hoped that Cuddy could see that or sense it somehow.

“You’re welcome.  We should do this more often.”

“Reveal life altering test results?”

“Dinner and drinks,” Cuddy corrected, not rising to the bait, though she did grin in recognition of the comment.  “You know, something resembling a social life – before I completely forget what it’s like.”

“Even though I’ve been a total killjoy?”

“You’re dealing with something pretty huge.  So for now I’m going to give you a break and trust that you’re normally at least a little more sociable.”

“Maybe a little,” she allowed, smiling.  Were they flirting?  Well, she was, but was Cuddy flirting back?  “I’m sorry about the rain.”

“I didn’t know you were in charge of the weather.  Must come in handy.”  Okay, maybe she was flirting back.  Might as well go with it.

“Oh, it does.  Really though, I’m sorry you got soaked.  How’d you know I was out there, anyway?”

“I could see you from my office.  You were out there a long time.”

“I like the rain.”

“So you said.”


This was a really bad idea.  It was still raining – lighter now – and she had held the umbrella as they made their way back to Cuddy’s car.  Cuddy had twisted to ask her something, and, as her reaction time currently sucked, Remy had walked right into her, then caught her around the waist with one arm to steady both of them.  Maybe it was the fact that she was so pleasantly warm, or the way she smelled, or the way she smiled up into Remy’s eyes, but suddenly they were kissing, and it wasn’t one sided.  Cuddy was kissing her back, and she shouldn’t be doing this, but now that she’d started she didn’t know how to stop, certainly didn’t want to stop.  What she wanted was to have her other arm free to wrap around Cuddy’s waist and pull her even closer.

Then it was over and she found herself dazed.  She just kissed Cuddy.  And Cuddy was still resting against her.  That was a good sign, at least.

“I’m sorry.”

“Did you mean it?” Cuddy murmured, finally raising her head.  Her eyes sparkled.  “Did you kiss me because you’re drunk or did you kiss me because you meant it?”

“I’m not drunk.  Tipsy maybe, but I still meant it.”  Cuddy smiled.

“Good.  But since you are not-drunk-but-maybe-tipsy, I’m going to drive you home now and we’re going to talk about this later, okay?”  Remy couldn’t do anything but nod.  In-charge-Cuddy had taken control.  She was just along for the ride.

How or when exactly they ended up in the car she couldn’t have said – maybe she was drunk – but they were moving.  Driving.  Cuddy was driving.  She was just along for the ride.  Why did that sound familiar?

She looked over at the brunette behind the wheel.  Cuddy looked so calm.  Was she really not freaking out or just holding it all in?  Cuddy didn’t have Huntington’s, but had kissed her anyway.  Hadn’t slapped her, yelled at her.  Except Cuddy was straight.  Wasn’t she?  She had flirted, though.  Was it pity?  Remy didn’t want pity or charity or…whatever.


“Hmm?”  She thought blue eyes flicked in her direction, but she couldn’t tell for sure.

“I have Huntington’s.”

“I know.  Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“Not entirely.  But I meant…is that why you kissed me?”

“Actually, you kissed me,” Cuddy pointed out.  “I just kissed you back.”  Remy grinned, then chuckled as something funny ran through her mind.

“House says it’s not sexual harassment if the employee asks out the employer.”  Cuddy made a strange face that Remy couldn’t even begin to comprehend.  Her mirth faded.

“I’m not sure I see the logic there.”  Remy hummed.  It was a sound of acceptance rather than of agreement or disagreement.


“Given the topic of conversation, maybe you should call me Lisa.”

“Lisa,” she repeated, trying it out.  It felt weird.  Cuddy was Cuddy; Lisa didn’t feel right after so long thinking of her like that.  Of course, Remy had also caught herself thinking of herself as Thirteen more than once in recent weeks.  She mentally shook herself, forcing her mind back on track.  “Did you kiss me back because I have Huntington’s?”  Cuddy frowned.

“No…I’m not Cameron,” she finished under her breath.  This time it was Remy who frowned.  What was that about?

“Because I don’t want your pity.”

“I don’t pity you.  I’m sorry you have Huntington’s, but I don’t pity you.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I wanted to.”  Remy smiled, the face splitting kind of smile, knowing that she probably looked like an idiot but not caring.  She rested her forehead against the cool glass and watched rivulets of water make their way across the pane, still grinning like a fool but feeling her eyelids beginning to droop.  “Hey.”  She turned her head back toward the other woman, watching her profile in the diffuse glow of streetlights.  “You should tell me where you live so I can stop driving in circles.”


Despite the blaring of her alarm, waking was a slow process.  Remy groaned and slapped at the snooze button.  She sighed and buried her face in her pillow as she allowed the events of the previous evening to float through her mind.  Huntington’s.  Rain.  Cuddy.  Dinner.  Drinking.  Kissing Cuddy.  And there the progression stopped.  She had kissed Lisa Cuddy and Cuddy had kissed her back.  Remy found herself smiling.  She was happy.  Less than twenty-four hours after finding out she had Huntington’s, she was happy.  What was wrong with her?

The alarm sounded again and she hit snooze a second time.  Cuddy had promised that they would talk later, when they were both free of the influence of alcohol.  When was later? she wondered.  They would have to be very careful about their interactions at the hospital.  House wasn’t up and about yet, but Foreman would be quick to notice anything suspicious as well.  And while House would tease them endlessly, Foreman might actually try to make a big deal about it, which made him possibly more dangerous in that department.

She twisted, staring at the face of her alarm clock.  It was still early – she’d given herself some extra time in case she was hung over, which she thankfully wasn’t.  If she got up now and didn’t linger, she could be at work early.  Not earlier than Cuddy, but earlier than the rest of the team ever got there.  Early enough that maybe they could talk.  Or at least figure out a time to do so.  Mostly, she just wanted the opportunity to see Cuddy and make sure she wasn’t freaking out and just smile at her like an idiot for a few minutes to get it out of her system without anyone else looking on.  The thought was so enticing that, despite her lingering grogginess, she rolled over and sat up, turning off her alarm.  Today was going to be a good day.


This had seemed like a good idea right up until this very moment, pressed against the door, her hands, white knuckled from clutching so hard, the only thing keeping the doorknob from digging into her lower back.  When had she become such a coward?  Of course, Cuddy staring at her like that wasn’t exactly helping.

“You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

“No,” she managed, finally drawing a breath.  She swallowed convulsively as blue eyes continued to bore into her.  She’d apparently lost her mastery of the English language.

“You’re in early.”

“Yeah.”  She sighed and shook her head.  This was ridiculous.  She needed to get a grip.  “I didn’t imagine last night, did I?”  Amusement infused Cuddy’s expression as she shook her head.

“No.  Were you that drunk?”

“No,” she chuckled, surprised at her sense of relief that her giddy smile had returned.  “Just, well, you know what they say about something that seems too good to be true.”  She shrugged one shoulder.  Cuddy scoffed, most likely at how cheesy that sounded, but she also flushed a little.  Remy dropped her hands to her sides at last, flexing them to get the blood flowing again, then took a few steps forward, moving closer to Cuddy’s desk.  “I just wanted to check in now that we’re both sober.”


“So…if we happened to have dinner again?  Try out that social life thing you mentioned?” she asked, finally reaching Cuddy’s desk.  She leaned one hip against it.  Cuddy sat back in her chair and smiled up at her, fingers laced over her stomach.

“I’d like that.”

“Friday?  Someplace nice?”  Cuddy nodded, smiling.  “And if there happened to be kissing again?” she asked with a flirty grin, her voice getting softer.

“I’m pretty sure I’d like that, too.”

“Okay.  I’ll set something up.”  She paused.  “You’re not going to freak out on me, are you?”  Cuddy laughed and shook her head.

“No.  I have my concerns, but no freaking out.”

“Concerns?  Like…House?”

“Like House,” Cuddy agreed, her expression growing more serious.  “You know he’ll find out eventually, and he’ll make our lives hell when he does.”

“Yes, but it’s just talk.  And then he’ll find something else to amuse him.  Eventually.  I can take it.  Honestly, I’m…I’m kind of more concerned about Foreman.”  Cuddy’s brow furrowed in confusion.


“Well, of anyone, it seems like he’s the most likely to make a big deal out of this.  I mean, if he thinks it will benefit him in some way.”  Cuddy’s lips twitched, then a slow smile spread over her face.

“Foreman won’t be a problem.”  Remy raised a curious eyebrow, wondering if she’d be privy to this story.  “No one else would hire him.  He had to come begging for his job back.”  Remy tried to fight it, but grinned despite her best efforts.

“Good to know.”

“But you don’t know that.”

“Know what?” she asked, delighting in Cuddy’s answering smile.

“Exactly.  Now, you should get upstairs before one of your partners in crime notices that we’re in here having a heart to heart.”

“Right.  So…Friday?”

“Friday,” Cuddy confirmed.

“You should give me your number so I can call you and finalize our secret plans,” she suggested.  Cuddy gave a small huff of amusement, but leaned forward and scrawled her number on a purple Post-It, which she peeled off and handed over.  Remy leaned over, taking the pen from Cuddy’s hand and writing her own number on the next Post-It.  She cut her eyes in Cuddy’s direction.  “Let me just say that I hate the fact that you have glass doors, because I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Friday.”  There was a hint of promise in the older woman’s voice.

“Right.  Friday.”  Cuddy held her gaze for a long moment, teasing her…daring her?

“Now get out of here.”

“Going.  I’ll call you.”  She pushed off of the desk, trying to ignore the sensation of Cuddy’s eyes watching her as she left the room.


“Mmm,” Remy hummed, marveling at the fact that she felt as intoxicated this time as she had last time.  Which wouldn’t be odd except for the fact that she hadn’t had a drop of alcohol this time.  But Cuddy was kissing her again, hands in her hair and holding her close.  She had the older woman pressed against her car, hands on her hips and god it was good.  “You’re going to be so dangerous,” she breathed when they parted.

“Why is that?” Cuddy murmured, nuzzling her and capturing her lips again before she had the chance to answer.

“Because,” she mumbled in between kisses, “you’re gonna kiss me like this and then expect me not to shove you against the wall every time I see you.”  Cuddy laughed into to the kiss.

“Something like that, yes.”  Slender fingers released their grip on her hair, trailing down to splay against her lower back, pulling her closer but putting an end to their impromptu car side make out session.  “But…we don’t have to work tomorrow, so why don’t we go somewhere a little less public and enjoy ourselves while we can?”  That sounded like heaven on earth as far as Remy was concerned, but she didn’t want to move too fast, didn’t want to screw this up.  At least their dinner conversation had revealed that Cuddy was not straight, had come to terms with her bisexuality some time ago.  So no closeted freak-outs.  Definite bonus.  But this whatever between them was new and she was dying, and jumping right into something serious might not be the best of ideas.

“Are you sure?” she whispered against the smooth skin of Cuddy’s cheek.

“Very.  Emotionally…we need to be careful, go slow.  For both our sakes.  But physically…well, let’s just say it’s been a very, very long time.”  Laughing, but not unkindly, Remy dipped her head to mouth Cuddy’s throat, earning her a breathy hum of encouragement.

“I can help you with that.”

“That was the idea.  Just…not against the car.”  Chuckling again, Remy stilled, simply resting against the older woman, inhaling her perfume, feeling her breathe, concentrating on the feeling of the hands on her back, now moving ever so slightly in tiny strokes.  “My place?” Cuddy suggested after a long moment.  Remy smiled.

“Yeah.  I’ll follow you.”


“God…”  Cuddy’s hands were in her hair again, encouraging the press of her lips against the older woman’s sternum.  Her own hands were working the buttons of Cuddy’s shirt, finally freeing the last of them and slipping inside.  She was so soft.  Somehow, she managed to coax Cuddy’s hands from her hair for long enough to brush her shirt from her shoulders and off.

Then Cuddy set upon her and clothing was falling away almost faster than she could keep track.  Fingers against her stomach, fumbling with the fastening of her pants, then suddenly on her lower back, slipping beneath the now slack waistband.  Pants puddling to the floor, Cuddy’s skirt following suit.  Underwear next, then bare skin against bare skin and there was no way she was ever going to be able to get enough of this.

On the bed – when had that happened? – wrapped up in one another, Cuddy almost frantic; needy and demanding, and Remy loved it.  Loved pressing her back into the mattress and taking control.  At least until Cuddy’s patience for foreplay ran out and she found her hand guided lower in a gentle but insistent manner.  “Slow next time,” Cuddy breathed.  “Fast now.”

Liquid heat and smooth muscles drawing her in.  Cuddy’s hand staying with her until Remy picked up the rhythm she needed.  Fingers brushing her thighs until she shifted, then slipping between and she couldn’t concentrate anymore.  Nails against her back and Cuddy arching beneath her.  It was over too quickly, but Cuddy’s fingers were curling in the most pleasant way, making her forget to be disappointed.  “Please,” a voice rasped in her ear.  “Don’t stop.”  Groaning in acknowledgment, she resumed the motion of her fingers, gazing down into lovely blue eyes, their breath coming in matching gasps.  She was falling, her eyes squeezing closed despite her best efforts, her world shrinking down to the white-hot pleasure behind her eyes.

As she regained her senses, she found Cuddy restless beneath her, left hanging.  She smiled and picked up where she’d left off, and this time she was infinitely more able to concentrate on the details she’d missed the first time, distracted by her own pleasure.  Hands against her sides and her back, stroking her skin, holding her closer.  The inviting hollow of Cuddy’s throat, all soft ivory skin.  The echo of her breathing, growing faster.  Quiet sounds of pleasure from the back of her throat and deep in her chest.  She lowered her head, finding Cuddy’s pulse point, feeling the rapid thrum of blood against her lips.  A groan resonated against her chest, Cuddy’s hands tightening against her again, lithe body beginning to tense beneath her.

A few more strokes and Cuddy was arching against her, shuddering.  She felt her own muscles contract in sympathy and they slowed, relaxing into a tangled mass of limbs on the bed, exhausted from the frantic pace they had set.  Remy found Cuddy’s lips, accepting a deep, breathless kiss from the older woman.

“God, I needed that.”  Remy felt laughter bubble up from nowhere.  She buried her face against Cuddy’s shoulder, glad when she felt Cuddy laughing as well.  It had been quick and frantic and a little fumbling, but utterly satisfying.  For both of them, it seemed.

“Me too.”  Sighing, she pressed sporadic kisses to the soft skin of Cuddy’s neck and shoulder, enjoying the sensation of Cuddy’s hands rubbing up and down her spine.

“I didn’t intend to be so…desperate.”

“Fast doesn’t mean bad,” Remy murmured.  “It just means that I get to take my time with you this time.”  She felt Cuddy’s breathing grow deeper and faster as her hands began to move with more purpose.

“Remy,” she breathed.  “God, what time is it?” she asked, her head twisting toward the nightstand.

“Doesn’t matter, remember?  We don’t have to be up.”  Any further objections died away as Remy took full advantage of the fact that the angle of Cuddy’s head gave her better access to her neck.

She moved a little lower, trailing kisses all the way, then sat up, tugging until Cuddy got the hint and pushed up to follow her.  Warm skin pressed against her own as Cuddy straddled her and shifted closer.  She was glad to finally have the ability to wrap her arms around the older woman, and did so, touching her anywhere and everywhere she could reach.  Cuddy’s hands followed suit, exploring, matching her caress for caress until her fingers dipped between Cuddy’s thighs.  Humming, Cuddy tried to reciprocate, but Remy’s legs were pressed together due to her kneeling position, blocking her access.

“It’s your turn, you know.”  Cuddy’s voice was quiet and low, dripping with sexuality.  Remy grinned and laughed, but didn’t slow her ministrations.

“We can share,” she murmured, pressing her knees outward and consequently spreading Cuddy’s legs a little further.  She could feel Cuddy’s answering smile against her skin as nimble fingers slipped lower.  “I’ll race you.”  At that, Cuddy threw her head back and laughed.  It was a nice sound, Remy thought.

“I thought you wanted to go slow this time,” Cuddy pointed out, her head returning to center, eyes dark with arousal as she studied Remy’s face, a gentle smile on her lips.

“I do.  I’m banking on my self-control.”  Cuddy scoffed.

“Are you saying I have no self-control or that you’re just that good?”  Remy chuckled, nipping at her neck, splaying her free hand against Cuddy’s lower back to steady her as she began to roll her hips in time to Remy’s touch.

“I’m saying you talk too much.”

“Oh really?”  Cuddy leaned forward, breath against her ear, and proceeded to tell Remy, in concise but explicit detail, what she wanted to do to her.  It was not what she would have expected, but it was certainly not unwelcome.  A tingle ran down her spine, partially due to the tickling sensation of warm breath against her skin and partially because of what Cuddy was saying.

“If you’re going to talk like that, I take it back.”  Cuddy chuckled again, but quieted.  Despite her teasing offer to race, Remy took her time, eager to learn Cuddy’s body and its signals.  It wasn’t about winning…well, maybe a little, but it was more about giving Cuddy pleasure, and she was so focused on that that even Cuddy’s skilled touch wasn’t an undue distraction.  She couldn’t help but feel confident that she could push Cuddy over the edge first, despite the fact that she’d only climaxed once to Cuddy’s twice.  Of course, with her legs spread at an awkward angle that was beginning to make her thighs ache and now supporting a fair amount of Cuddy’s weight, it wasn’t even going to be a challenge to hold back.

At least until Cuddy shifted, fingers twisting and thrusting in a way Remy couldn’t process but was just right.  Every muscle tensed and she groaned as the unexpected pleasure washed over her.  Even as she calmed, she didn’t lose her rhythm, helped tremendously by Cuddy’s movement, which was growing increasingly insistent.

Cuddy latched onto her, clinging as she shook, taking large gulps of air.  Remy held her close, even once she had relaxed.  Cuddy’s fingers wound into her hair and Remy smiled, kissing her shoulder and rubbing her back.

“I win.”  Remy couldn’t help but laugh, delighted.  She leaned forward, gently laying Cuddy on the bed.  She rubbed her thighs, smoothing her hands up over the slight protrusions of her hipbones to the flat of her stomach, smiling at the vision laid out before her.

“I’m feeling like a very lucky woman.”  Cuddy’s grin was decidedly impish.

“Anything to do with the fact that you just got lucky?”  Laughing, Remy stretched out on top of her and took a moment to kiss her.

“With my hot boss, no less.”

“Boss’s boss,” Cuddy corrected.

“Right.”  She paused.  “I think that makes it hotter, somehow.”

“Good to know,” Cuddy allowed, obviously amused.  Cuddy’s hands wandered into her hair again and blue eyes studied her face.  “Are you staying?”

“I…if you want me to,” Remy murmured, dropping her head as her stomach flip-flopped.  Did Cuddy want her to leave?

“I certainly don’t want to keep you if you’d rather go.”  Remy looked up at her again as a bit of relief seeped in.  Cuddy had mistaken her uncertainty for reluctance.

“I meant…I’d like to stay, but if you want me to go, I will.”  Cuddy smiled, looking utterly beautiful.

“I’d really like it if you’d stay.”  Remy smiled back, her heart rate returning to normal.

“Guess I’m staying.”  A quick kiss and Cuddy was shifting beneath her.

“Then we should get under the covers.  I’m cold.”  They slowly untangled themselves.  Some of the decorative pillows had ended up on the floor already, and they pushed aside those that remained.  They were a bit fussy for Remy’s taste, but fit into her general impression of Cuddy’s style.  She slid between sheets so soft she almost sighed at the whisper of the cotton against her skin.  They were obviously a much higher thread count than anything Remy had ever been able to afford.

Cuddy slid in after her, settling close enough that they shared a pillow and their legs brushed when they shifted, but not snuggled up tight.  They watched each other, lost in their own thoughts.  What was she doing here?  She tended to be more of a one night stand kind of girl, not wanting to get attached, but here she was, spending the night with one of the few people she wouldn’t be able to escape the following morning.  And she didn’t want to escape.  She wanted to be here.  She wondered again how she could feel happy right now.  She shouldn’t be feeling anything but despair.  She’d just received her death sentence.  She couldn’t know when she would die, but she could put a fairly accurate timeline to how long it would take the Huntington’s to kill her.  And as she got closer and the symptoms began to appear, that timeline would grow more accurate.

A warm hand cupped her face, thumb smoothing over her cheekbone, causing her eyes to refocus on the woman in front of her.  “What has you looking so serious?”  Remy pondered how best to answer that.

“I’m happy,” she finally murmured, prompting a confused smirk from Cuddy.

“And that’s bad?” she asked, thumb still brushing her face.

“No.  I just feel like I shouldn’t be, you know?  How can I be happy?”  Cuddy’s face softened to a look of understanding.  Feeling suddenly shy, Remy dropped her eyes, plucking at the sheets between them.

“Bad news doesn’t mean you can’t be happy about things that are going well in your life.  You’re just…I think you’re still numb.”  Cuddy was shifting closer, the full length of their bodies pressing together.  She could feel soft breath on her face as Cuddy leaned in, still cupping her cheek, and kissed her before meeting her eyes again.  “But eventually, it’ll hit you and you’ll cry or get angry or do crazy things like sleep with your boss…”

“Boss’s boss,” she whispered, lips quirking into a smile as Cuddy chuckled.

“Right.  But somehow, you’ll grieve, and then you’ll put yourself back together and find a way to keep going.  But however you grieve, whenever you grieve, I’ll be here.”  Remy closed her eyes, concentrating on the feeling of Cuddy’s hand against her face and trying not to cry as emotion welled within her.  “I know that I can’t even begin to know how this feels, but I do care.  You don’t have to feel alone, because you’re not alone.  Hear me?”  She managed a nod, reaching up to pull Cuddy’s hand from her face, tangling their fingers as she took slow, measured breaths.  Cuddy seemed to understand, falling silent, thumb rubbing along Remy’s while she calmed herself.

Eventually, she felt relatively certain that she had her emotions under control and opened her eyes, studying Cuddy’s face for a long moment before kissing her knuckles.

“Thank you.”  Smiling, managing to look both amused and touched, Cuddy pressed even closer, kissing her, lingering.  Settling down, heads now close, breath mingling, Remy relaxed against the older woman, feeling closer to this woman than she could remember feeling to anyone in a long, long time.  She’d been so careful not to get attached, and here it had happened so quickly.  How had simple attraction and flirting and even sex turned into emotion?  Still, it was as comforting as it was unsettling, and as her body began to shift toward sleep, comforting won out, at least for now.