Let Them Talk

Lisa was surprised to hear Hugh apologize for her bumping into him, but then again when hadn’t he? His own guilt feeling was stronger than her inherited Jewish guilt, only for what he felt guilty for she could only guess; his job? The money? The fame? Being regarded as a without going to medical school while his father had done so painstakingly? Given there were a lot of options to choose from but nothing he could have influenced much. He was just doing his job at the time. Or did he maybe, just maybe feel sorry for her having touched him? For her having to endure his touch? Or was it that he was sorry for himself to have to endure her touch as a married man? Hugh did make her prone to freak out. He probably just felt it was the polite thing to do though.

She wasn’t sure he really knew her dislike or rather hatred for Springsteen’s music, but now that he did he did use it to his advantage. Somehow she was pretty sure he was just dong it to spite her. Oh sometimes, she wanted to strangle him. Instinctively she raised her hand higher as he stretched his to savior his control over the TV program, Lisa stretched more on instinct because with any planned and well executed move she would have managed to shift her weight more towards her other foot. But she didn’t, effectively throwing herself off balance landing spread eagle in his lap, her chest and stomach on his thighs. He was so warm, and smelled so musky, so distinctly him. It wasn’t an aftershave or a perfume which she was sure Hugh wouldn’t use. It was just a man smelling like an actual man. Oh before she strangled him there were other things he was good for. Definitely.

While she wanted to bask in the feeling of being so close to him ‘the Boss’ was yelling in her ear about the great advantage of being born on this side of the Atlantic, aiding the logical part of her brain. Pushing herself up on her arms and knees she was on all fours, his legs under her trunk. Just as she was about to make another attempt his warm, moist breath grazed her shoulder, involuntary she arched closer to him, wanting him to make contact, before her brain even had a chance to process the information. It hadn’t been a careless whisper of desire, no, it had been Hugh declaring his fondness of Bruce Springsteen. At his next comment she just huffed. He was the British one, he hadn’t even been born in this god given country.

Two could play this game though, his breath softly caressing her exposed skin had made her brazen, she’d always gone for what she’d wanted. Never had she shied away from using her considerable looks either, so why should she now? After all she knew that on Hugh they’d work. They had before and would probably many times over. “Oh is it?” She turned her head, facing him over her shoulder, sinking her teeth into her lower lip consciously now. If he was trying to distract her using what had happened in the past so could she. Meeting his gaze she had to constantly remind herself, that not a kiss but the remote was her goal. For once in her life time she didn’t exactly mind the idea of losing a battle. But just when she knew she had his full attention she grabbed the remote. Well more his hand which reached all the way around the remote and tried to hit the mute button trying desperately not to think how good and warm his hand felt or run her thump caressingly over it. No she just wanted to mute that idiot on TV. That was her only goal right now. At least that’s what she told herself.

"Oops," Hugh mouthed as Lisa proceeded to land smack dab in his lap. Okay, now that was something House would have said, but on him, not in character, it came out almost as another half apology, and not a trollish gloat like it should have been.  Still, there was a hint of a smirk still on his lips, knowing that it had been something of a conjoined effort that had put her in that position.  He damn well knew that if she hadn't wanted to do that, she wouldn't have.  She knew exactly what she was doing here, and doing to him in the process.  Already, his body was responding to her weight on him, the feel of the curve of her chest, the way her breath hitched, pushing that curve against him just that much more. 

Far too close for comfort now, if you considered 'comfort' the remaining few whips of your self control.  Even when she shifted so that she wasn't exactly touching him in any more, but more straddling his outstretched legs, it was all consuming.  All at once, he didn't give a damn about Bruce Springsteen; he was locked into her burning gaze as she snared him in with it, knowing that she was using it to her full advantage and willing throwing himself into her trap.  She bit down on her bottom lip, and he couldn't have looked away even if he wanted to.  She had this way of doing this, she always had.  It had often worked out quite well during shoots, because he was generally supposed to be looking at her like he was undressing every inch of her with his eyes, but he knew she knew the truth, that there had been a fine line between acting and the real deal.

Of course, it worked, it took literally seconds for him to realize she was going for the remote again, he'd been that long gone.  Her smaller hand meshed around his, as he hung onto that stupid piece of electronic filled plastic, realizing that they were not so unlike two flirting schoolchildren here, playing out some silly game.  Truthfully, he couldn't even remember what he'd just been teasing her about.  The Boss, right.

Wrestling with her grasp, he twisted his torso a bit and drew up his knees so they were now touching her sides.  It was time he forfeit this game, because he knew he was going to lose, although 'lose' was something of a subjective term here.  Working his thumb over her hand, he actually forced her to press the mute button down with it, and just like that, the Boss was rendered silent.

Her lips curled into a tired smile… Oh if only he would have had a teakettle then she would have had a ground to justify what she so desperately wanted. Then again did she really need any justification? And a simple tea as justification, was she that cheap? Hugh just changed everything. Her thinking. Her usual control over emotions and the wanton of her own body.

Of course she did notice his less than eager response to his own proposal of wanting to watch TV. As he made himself at home Lisa had to consciously command her body scoot over, all her senses telling her how nice it would be to snuggle up to his broad warm frame, his arm protectively around her. Drawing in her bottom lip, chewing on it she left a few inches between them so they weren’t touching before she pulled her knees up and under herself, her knee grazing his thigh. “Sorry.” She murmured almost inaudibly, not sure if he had heard her, not really caring either. The contact had sent her heart rate through the sky once more. She wasn’t sorry for bumping into his leg, if anything she was sorry it didn’t last longer.

He was really sitting here on her bed with her just a few inches from him. The press or anyone who’d find out about this would have a field day, but so far… well today at least they’d behaved. It was surreal to sit here next to him, in a setting that had become her home, where she’d slept. Where she’d like to sleep with him, in every sense of the word as long as he was just there. Present with her, united in not only a physical but spiritual way.

“The boss?” She spit mockingly as her attention was drawn back to the TV away from him while she tried to calm her aching body. Like the man he was he didn’t seem to notice her obvious dislike by her body language or her tone, she’d never liked Bruce Springsteen and she never would. As he kept getting more comfortable she forgot all distance and instead leaned over him, thanking the yoga gods for her belly muscles and tried to snatch the remote from his hand. She figured there had to be something better on TV. Just hovering over his lap she extended her hand, hoping to be quicker than him, if he extended his hand reaching it would be out of the question unless she’d crawl over him. Again, not the worst possible thing but did they really have to listen to Born in the USA.  

A small, knowing smirk had slowly been creeping across Hugh's lips for the past few moments.  Even without the body language, he knew Lisa couldn't stand Bruce Springsteen; it was a long standing source of amusement for him, seeing as she should by all means like the guy, but she didn't, she never had, it was baffling.  It seemed only fitting that he try and goad her a little bit with the channel choice then, even if he wasn't showing it very obviously.

What was obvious though, to both of them, and ultimately disappointing, was her forced distance from him, even as they sat together up against the headboard and stared blankly at the television screen; not that he blamed her, he knew this was turning into some kind of excruciating battle of wills for them both.  He might have even suggested he leave, if only to save them from this, but he was afraid she'd take that wrong way, instead of the way he meant it; which was, he'd be doing it so they wouldn't have to keep being put through the torture of desperately needing jump one another's bones again.  Which of course led him right back to the realization that if they hadn't had sex in the first place, they would have at least just been sitting here, dealing with their more usual, tempered amount of sexual tension.  Too late; the entire dynamic had been cranked up to 'fuck me now', and that was turning out to be a lot harder to temper than he'd ever thought.

She inadvertently bumped her knee into his thigh as she settled in at her 'safe' distance from him, and even as she was muttering her own, nearly inaudible, 'sorry', he was doing the exact same thing; their utterly inauthentic apologies sounding out in near unison as they avoided looking at one another.  Not sorry whatsoever; she could bump into him any time she wanted.  How unbelievably awkward.

Her dislike for the Boss was vocalized at last, and Hugh's little smirk widened. A few seconds later, and she was going for the remote that was still clutched in his hand; compromising their personal bubbles of sexual denial in an instant.  He saw her going for it, leaning across him, and realized all at once what that meant; he could let her have the remote and she'd no doubt retract back into her former, distanced, place, or he could hold his long arm out and likely cause her to fall across his lap for her efforts.  That was a bit puerile really; a man tactic if there ever was one, but it most certainly went through his mind as a viable option.

His smirk was long gone, instead that intense gaze was locked onto her as her body tented over his; her smell, her closeness, her heat, all of it invading his senses.  And as if on its own fruition, his arm shot out at the last moment, moving the remote not entirely out of her reach, but about halfway out, far enough to cause her to have to go over the top of him if she wanted it, really wanted it.

She smiled listening to him talk about his children it was refreshing and she couldn’t get enough of the love she saw in his eyes whenever they were mentioned. Lisa could tell he wanted to know more, do more about her pain, help her through maybe, or just let her cry. But she’d cried enough in the past few days to last her a life time, because of him, because of Robert, because of her pups. It had been a rough time, now with him sitting on her bed, close yet comfortably apart she knew that things were finally looking up again. Or at least she hoped so. She had to keep reminding himself that with just one word he could shatter her carefully crafted world anew.

Knowing he had intended it as a joke she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. Laurie-Edelstein dynasty? This was way too serious, as much as she wanted to believe in such a thing, how would his children react, if she were to… no she probably wouldn’t even be able to have a child of her own at this stage but still. What did he think. What did he expect? She wasn’t that much younger than him after all. Oh god, what if she wouldn’t be able to hold him because of his kids, even if he did leave his wife? What if he actually wanted more kids? Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, hoping to calm her racing heart. It always astounded her how he could send her mind racing in opposite directions, send her emotions on a roller coaster ride.

Her hand began to tickle, warm itself from his body heat or maybe it was the feeling of his naked hand on hers that made her smile. “Oh yeah, boiling water for yourself earns you my hand?” She questioned, resting her hand in his much larger one even after he’d kissed her, drowning in his amazingly blue eyes. How as that colour even real? It always looked photoshopped to her and probably to most others, but just staring at them she knew that there was a whole universe contained behind them, most of that universe was filled with loneliness and pain. In that moment she swore herself that she would change that, change his life, for the better, the happier, no matter what it would take.

As he broke his gaze she reprimanded herself, how could she be so easy? Lisa was sure the desire had been written all over her face, cheeks and neck slightly flushed like a caught school girl, pupils dilated. At least he hadn’t pushed his luck. Though then again what if he had? Should she now be thankful he was a gentleman or curse his entire family for raising him with manners? Oh damn that Britishness he embodied. Never had she met a man who conflicted her even close to the way Hugh made her feel.

Chuckling she shook her head. “ The telly?” That word sounded like a bad drink from her youth. Not having a better idea what to do herself Lisa just shrugged. “I guess… what’s on?” Then thinking for a minute she thought quickly to add a little rule protecting her from wandering thoughts due to possible boredom. “No sports though.” Given she’d grown up in a baseball fanatic household but if she wasn’t actually dragged to the stadium she rather avoided watching it.

Hugh couldn't be exactly sure what had brought on the deep, steadying intake of breath from Lisa in that moment; really, it could have been any number of about twenty things.  This wasn't easy, for either of them, and for two people who had always had an easy friendship, it made that knowledge even more difficult to swallow.  They had to get past this, back onto some familiar ground, somehow, even if they couldn't go back to...before. He had missed her dearly, missed their friendship, simply missed being around her, but as she had so accurately pointed out the other night, he had not communicated that well in the years since. Needless to say, they had a lot to work past before getting to that point; and beyond that...who knew what awaited them.  It was the forbidden fruit met uncharted territory.

Once again, seconds ticked by where all they did was look at one another, lost in pale gazes, enraptured by her.  To say he was getting mixed signals from her was an understatement; it was as if her body was saying 'yes', while her heart and mind seemed to have different versions of 'no' on deck.  What the hell was he supposed to do?  If he gave in to temptation he risked pushing her too far, and that would most definitely be the end of this.  If he did nothing, would she get frustrated with him to the point of having him leave anyways?  He didn't want to leave, he wanted to be here, with her; even if it was just sitting and talking for awhile longer, avoiding the 'unsafe' subjects.  So he settled on a scant touch and a light tease, and hoped for the best.

Luckily, that was a wise move, she was at least amused.  "I suppose it does," he replied with a slanted grin/  "One can only imagine what it would have earned me if I had a proper kettle to boil."  A little too cheeky perhaps, but she still had his hand trapped beneath hers, and he could feel her heartbeat thudding through the press of her fingertips.  Who knows what might have happened next, if he hadn't diverted with the ever stupid distraction of television watching; truthfully, he wished he could have channeled a bit of Gregory House's confidence right now, then again, that most would have ended up with him getting slapped and booted out.

He was about as enthusiastic about the prospect of TV watching as she was, but too late, he'd said it, best to follow through.  "No idea..."  Once he was rid of his boots, he scooted over, fetched the remote from the nigh stand, and clicked it on.  "No sports, I promise," he chuckled, flipping through the hotel's available channels until he settled on a random concert fundraiser on VH1, where Bruce Springsteen happened to be on stage at the moment. "Oh look, it's the Boss, your fellow East Coast-ian."  Music, had to be at least a mutually good viewing choice, right?

Long ago had she learned that if you hang on to pain and resentment about someone’s death it would eventually kill you so Lisa tried not to do that with Robert. He wouldn’t have wanted her to either, he would have wanted her to make her peace with the whole thing and find her own happiness. Of course it hurt, of course she mourned, of course she had gotten drunk and fucked in an alley way but she somehow knew that even if Robert really had died he wouldn’t think any less of her for it, wouldn’t resent her. He wanted her to move on with her life. In her eyes there was a pained calmness, yes it still hurt, but it would eventually all be ok again. Life would have to go on.

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It was an odd conversation between them; teetering rather seamlessly between the lighthearted exchange of children and relatives and those near and dear to their lives, and the utterly devastating reality of death and abandonment and the things that could never be brought back. Hugh knew Lisa well enough to realize that she wouldn't have let him in here if she couldn't handle talking about it.  But there was a sharp pain in her gaze, a deep loss, a place in her that needed to be filled, and he desperately wanted to be the one to that; if only it was so easy to take that step, particularly after their faltering reunion.

Noticing his awkward state with his boots still on and not wanting to ruin the bedding she smiled a little to herself. It was so like him. “Please, make yourself at home.” She really wasn’t sure how to word that differently and the last thing she wanted was to send him an invitation of the wrong kind. She knew that even thought her mother usually got a long with everyone her and Hugh hadn’t really been instant best friends, in fact they’d never really warmed up to each other at all. Nonetheless her parents had had a great time when they were extras on House.

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It really did feel good, to catch up like this, but it wasn't always easy to navigate through.  Despite Lisa's invitation to make himself at home, Hugh was still sitting there with this shoes on, like a gentleman; well, as much as a gentleman who committed adultery, and seemed primed to commit it yet again, could.  He was starting to relax a bit more though, that was until she corrected him about Robert, and once again, he seemed unable to get past that major sticking point in the conversation.

Oh, I don’t know, that dimension sounds pretty bloody fantastic if you ask me! To not do anything and be okay with it? Come on, man! To not have to go anywhere, to not have to be told to do something! Bloody restful is what that sounds like to me!

Oi, I just love hitting the waves! It was a bit more challenging in Hawaii when I was filming Lost, but I’ll never complain so long as there’s a wave to catch somewhere!

I have this distinct feeling that dimension is also what is known as 'dying'. That said, it still sounds fantastic.  Good thing is, we'll all get there someday.  God, that sounded way more depressing than I wanted it to...

Oh yes, Lost!  You know, I'm getting really quite awful with faces these days, but I have now put the face with the show.  My daughter was obsessed. Dad's show was 'dorky', but yours, she couldn't get enough. [laughs]  By the way, what was with that whole Purgatory thing?  I'm afraid I was, well...rather 'lost' by that point....

Stepping out of the bathroom she could hear the water boiling in the coffee pot. Now she was a bad hostess too. This was really going great. She’d left the Pjs i the bathroom, clad in her tight work out clothes that highlighted a body girls half her age could only dream of. She hurried over to where Hugh was sitting by the coffee pot by the two mugs. “Let me…” She stepped closer to the table, wanting to relieve him of any self assigned duty.. It was silly but she’d been raised right after all and she was the hostess here. Of sorts.. “We could have just called room service too you know.” Lisa smiled down at him, a rare moment where physically she almost had the upper hand.

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"Oh, but I doubt room service can match this quality of cuppa," Hugh teased Lisa back with another smile up at her; without protest letting her take over the rest of the tea making duties, knowing her well enough to also know she felt as if this was something she should be doing, as hostess in this setting. At some point, they were just going to out polite one another, which was rather funny considering they'd been anything but 'polite' with one another the other night.

Despite her earnest efforts she let him take her hand, reciprocating his smile softly. She had told herself that if he would show up she’d never let him get close again, never let him even shake her hand. And now she was standing there, trying to seem nonchalant while she wanted nothing more than him. Him loving her. Him kissing her. Him choosing her. His skin was a rough contrast to her own, thoroughly lotioned one, a contrast that sent a delicious tingle from her nerve ends through her body. Why couldn’t she be as disciplined around him as she was when it came to working out?!

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Hugh couldn't help but laugh, a big, genuine laugh, because it really was so ridiculous; 'take it slow', that was nearly as silly as 'make this right'. Yes, he was just full of fabulously stupid lines tonight, wasn't he?  Thank god she knew him so well, or he'd have tripped over his own two feet and right out that door by now.  "Right...yes, quite a bit late," he quipped back in such a giddily British inflected way it made the moment all that much funnier.

Upon hearing his words her heart skipped a beat. It sounded like he actually wanted her being part of his life, cared for her even. He was vague, probably making up answers she wanted to hear, a small voice in the back of her mind screamed at her not to listen, not to give in to the temptation of happiness with Hugh.

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The rush of renewed relief ended, somewhat, when Hugh realized that now that they were over that hurtle, another challenge awaited.  Making this right, he wasn't even sure himself what he'd meant by that, but he felt confident that he would know it when they'd gotten there, and they most definitely were not there yet.  At least though, there was some level of understanding back between them; apologies made, truths admitted, a step in the right direction to putting together this form of whatever the shape of their new relationship would be.  It had a solid foundation, it always had, so overall, he felt a fluttering of hope.

He knew what he'd just told Lisa had only been in part what she had wanted to hear from him.  But it wasn't so easy as that, to lay it all out for her right here and now, and besides, if he went and said it all, then there really was no going back from that.  His body has already confessed it all to her as it was, the rest would seal the deal.  But no, he couldn't, beyond his own personal situation, he didn't even know hers.  The other night hadn't exactly left a lot of room for catching up.  For all he knew she was engaged, technically as unavailable to him as he was supposed to be to her; even if he suspected that wasn't the case.  The risks were so high irregardless, and they'd already taken it too far.

Why then wasn't he rushing to leave at the first sign of reconciliation? For one, he needed to hear this out, needed to know that things were truly okay between them.  But it was much more than that, and they both knew it; that invisible force pulling them together.  To call it merely 'attraction' wasn't doing it its full service, but that was a place to start. There was no point in denying himself that he didn't want her; he did, desperately. Even now, twisted up in a moment of emotional turmoil, he could feel the press of desire for her.  He didn't doubt that she didn't see it in that bright blue gaze still locked onto her.  The cards in his hand were starting to fall face up on the table, despite his best efforts to still play them as close to his chest as possible.

When she admonished him of forcing her out of the car, forcing sex on her, he exhaled a deep breath.  He knew it was the truth, but he had needed to hear that from her, just as much as she had needed this apology from him. But when she spoke again, her attention shifting around the room to settle on anything but him, he tensed up again. Those questions were the ones he feared the most, the ones he knew she would want answers for.  He had tried to prep himself to reply exactly the way he knew he should over the past day, as if he was somehow memorizing lines from a script, but every time he tried, he just shut down.

He could feel her tear dampened eyes on him again, and lifted his own wide set to meet hers.  It was the moment of truth, and for a handful of seconds he froze up.  Memories, so many of them they shared from the past ten years, came flooding over him.  And with them, there came an overwhelming feeling of how much he cared for her, no..loved her, and how much she deserved the truth from him.  He knew how he had to answer, he always had.