A/N: Sooo, this litterally would not let me sleep the other night! Pushed me right out of bed and back onto the stupid computer. So I'm sharing, in hopes that it brigtens someones day, enjoy!! This was different for me because I find it easier to write from Cuddy's POV, but this is my interpretation of House's inner soft spot. Feedback would be appreciated :)

Disclaimer: Oh sooo not mine...

He clings to her unashamedly in the night.

It has always been a weakness of his, this necessary attachment to something tangible, something to root himself in safety and consolation. It used to be the dream of getting as far away from his father as possible, becoming different, better, human. Then it was the mystery and demands of medicine in all it complexity and wonder. As of late, all he's had to hold onto is the cold and unfulfilling, mocking pillow to his left, and the flash of her blue eyes as a solace in the night.

Now that has all changed, and she is really here, so he envelopes her with his body drawing in her warmth. He casually slips his leg overtop of hers and slings his arms securely across her waist. His face nuzzles into the crook of her neck allowing the warm, clean scent of her hair to intoxicate his senses as his lips press a scruffy, affectionate kiss to her bare shoulder. He embraces the vitality and realness she gives off, acknowledging the fact that she's always been that solid beam of inner support and strength for him.

At the times when he was too stupid for his own good and he wrecked turmoil as unabashedly as he threw back too many Vicodin and chased them with a second tumbler of whiskey. When he was so insensitive he could taste the harsh, metallic backlash in his words. When he was so guarding and fearful of his deep, inner desperation for some meaningful connection to the world he would bite and snark to those within ten miles of him, effectively shutting out anyone who could poke at this weakness with a sharp stick. He encaged himself in a securely padlocked steel entrapment, closing himself off to all affection.

But not to her, she has known how to pick the lock for years. Always waltzing unflinchingly into his craziness with her flashy cleavage and her 'you wish' heels as his walls of chaos so often were crashing destructively around him. Never surrendering to his antics, and ever present with a soft glance or malicious glare, she has forbidden him to give up; on life, on himself, or on her

And as she shifts and sighs contentedly, completely at ease curled against him, he loves her explosively in this moment. This moment of realization, and acceptance, and truth. When the culmination of a lifetime of looking, and two dozen years of right in front of your face finally clicked. He's never really known what he wanted, but in finally taking the leap with her has found that sometimes- you get what you need.

END