cuddys_house | September 6, mid-morning

September 6, mid-morning

House woke up with a headache. As far as he could tell, though, he'd slept reasonably well, but damn, he felt groggy, thanks to the scotch he'd consumed hastily the night before. The first thing he did when he roused from sleep was yank the covers over his head to keep the sunlight out. He huddled under the covers, only to realise a moment later that Cuddy wasn't in the bed with him. A quick feel of her side of the mattress revealed that the sheets were cold: she'd been gone a while. When House braved pulling the covers back down, he squinted with a pained expression on his face at her bedside clock. Almost nine o'clock. Oh hell.

He was positive Cuddy would've tried to wake him before she left for work. Or maybe she did and he had no recollection of it. He forced himself out of bed after spending a few minutes debating whether to roll over and go back to sleep or not, and made his way to the bathroom, where he went to the toilet, then had a quick, scalding hot shower. By the time he was dry, he felt a little better, less groggy.

He felt odd being in Cuddy's house on his own. Especially in the morning like this. The idea of raiding her fridge for breakfast and making himself at home here like it was the normal thing to do just felt... weird. God only knew what Cuddy felt about leaving him alone in her place like this. Needless to say, he did go on a bit of a snoop around her house, looking through drawers and cupboards. He came across her medicine bag in her wardrobe, where he'd looked last night. Turned out if he'd just stretched his arm a little further into the cupboard last night when he'd been on a hunt for her medical bag, he would've been able to find and retrieve it.

He finally got dressed, in his damn suit because he had nothing else to wear, and grabbed himself some toast from the kitchen before heading out of the house. He drove back to his apartment to change into some clean clothes, making a mental note to do some laundry seeing he had pretty much no clean clothes left, and had a couple of cups of coffee. He then made his way to work and by the time he was in his office, it was well past ten in the morning.

He went through the mail Cameron had left on his desk for him to either reply to or ignore. He threw half of them out, ignored the rest, ignored the dictation he was supposed to do and spent the next fifteen minutes playing with his ball while he stared across at the conference room. He had nothing to do: no patients, no clinic, no work apart from the paperwork he was supposed to do which he wasn't going to do. Sitting idle in his office with the recurring memories of being shot made him feel anxious, unsettled. He needed a distraction.

Just then, he saw a group of med students being guided past his office by a doctor. Not Cuddy, but someone who was showing them the ropes, he supposed. It made him think back to the night before, how Cuddy had said she had a busy day today. It suddenly gave him an idea, especially seeing he had nothing to do.

He pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, and flipped it open. He wasn't sure where Cuddy was in the hospital, so he figured messaging her would be the best way to find out. Sitting back in his chair, he sent Cuddy a text message.

Vanillaaaa. I have some if you want some.

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Cuddy had woke that morning feeling pretty damn good. She hadn't overdone the wine the night before, she'd gotten to sleep at a reasonable hour, and having House next to her while she slept had made her night restful. All in all, it had made for a good start to what she knew would be a long day.

She'd left him sleeping while she showered, dressed, and ate a light breakfast. She'd known he'd find some way to distract or delay her and as much as she might enjoy some of those methods of distraction, she really couldn't afford to be late. Once she was ready and had started to gather up her things, she'd gone back to the bedroom with the intention of dragging his lazy ass out of bed. The moment she'd looked at him, though, she couldn't do it. House was sleeping so peacefully and she knew that was something he hadn't been doing very often. She wondered for a moment whether he'd filled the prescription she'd given him or if maybe he was finally starting to get over the nightmares. Either way, he was sound asleep and he didn't need to be in to work at any particular time.

It felt weird to leave him alone in her home but the truth was, if he wanted to snoop he'd do it with or without her permission. He already had snooped through her house without her knowledge or permission. She didn't like the idea of him snooping but since she had nothing more exciting to find than a vibrator, which he'd already found, there was no reason to worry herself over it. So she'd leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his temple and headed out the door.

Upon arriving at the hospital, she'd spent the first half hour taking care of the most pressing issues. Then it had been a quick meeting with the public relations director to get caught up on the latest fallout from the pot bust of House's patient. She'd delegated a couple of her more trustworthy doctors to handle the nitty-gritty of getting the med students oriented--she'd give her little speech to them after lunch. And now....

Cuddy smiled warmly at the older couple sitting across the desk from her. Mr. Larson was retired now but he'd owned his own printing company and, while not stinking rich, he was very well off. He and his wife had lost an infant grandchild to a fatal genetic disease six months earlier and now they were looking for a meaningful way to remember that child's short life. They wanted to make a generous donation to some entity that would help children like their grandchild. Cuddy was determined that entity would be Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

"As you can see, I've gathered all the date on all the neonatal care we've provided in the last year," she said, gesturing at the neatly organized report she'd given them just a moment before. "But I'd really love to take you on a tour of our neonatal and pediatric units, let you see some of the faces behind...."

Cuddy paused as her cell phone beeped at her. She excused herself and dug her phone out, only to stare dumbfounded at the message. Great. House was bored. She didn't have time for his boredom. She certainly didn't have time to be thinking about 'vanilla.' She quickly texted back: "Go away."

"Sorry," she said, looking back up at the Larson's. "So--how about that tour?"

Pretty certain that Cuddy would likely ignore the message, House was surprised when his phone beeped to signal an incoming message, not more than a couple of minutes after he'd sent his. He sat forward and grabbed the phone up, flipped it open and read the message.

Go away? Typical Cuddy. Of course, House didn't actually want anyone in the hospital to know he was in a relationship with Cuddy, so he wasn't about to make a huge thing of it in front of people. Text messages and the like, however, generally went unnoticed.

He hit reply, and text back: That's not what you said to me last night. He sent the message.

He waited a minute or two, then texted her again: What are you up to? Can I join in?

And then a couple of minutes later, he texted her again; a lie, but one that amused him all the same: I'm not wearing any underwear.

Cuddy was already escorting the Larson's upstairs to the Pediatrics area when her phone beeped again. She grabbed her phone and looked at it, leaving it tucked in her pocket, just long enough to see that it was House still at play. Then she ignored it and continued chatting with their guests. And then she ignored it again. And again.

She helped the couple to gown up so that she could show them the intensive care nursery. Cuddy spoke easily and enthusiastically about the work the hospital's doctors and nurses were doing. She didn't have to feign the enthusiasm. She was genuinely proud of what her people were doing. If she weren't, she wouldn't still be Dean. She wouldn't put up with the daily aggravation if she didn't believe that what she was doing, what they were all doing, was important.

After a while, she handed the Larsons over to the Head of Pediatrics so he could make his own pitch for the donation. She excused herself briefly and headed for a small alcove off the corridor to read House's messages.

Oh for.... She was going to kill him. She really didn't have time for his games and she didn't have time be thinking of him without underwear. She flushed slightly, a mix of anger and memories of the previous night. And she decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe that would make him shut up.

She texted her message and headed back to the Larsons.

Neither am I

House was pretty sure Cuddy wasn't going to answer this time around, considering how long she was taking to reply. Ages, in fact. He was also pretty sure Cuddy would see his antics as completely annoying, though to him they were a kind of extension of the playfulness of last night, like when he teased her face to face about sexual exploits or pinched her butt.

He glanced up when he heard the door to the conference room open and saw Cameron heading in to fetch something. He considered annoying Cameron for all of ten seconds when his phone suddenly beeped again. He swiped it up from his desk and flipped it open.

He raised his brows at the message. First, he wasn't expecting Cuddy to reply. Second, the idea of Cuddy at work without her panties... "Liar," he muttered fondly to the phone, a smirk on his face. He glanced up at Cameron a little self-consciously, though she wasn't paying any attention to him; she must've been on her break because she was sitting at the table with a coffee and a book of some kind in front of her.

He looked back down to the phone, leaned forward to brace his elbows on the desk, and texted Cuddy back. Wow. That's naughty, Dr. Cuddy.

He sent the message. Then a moment later, he sent another message. So, no panties, huh? Two words: my fingers. Use your imagination.

Cuddy gathered up the Larsons again. As she ushered them back toward the elevator, the Head of Pediatrics gave her a hopeful thumbs up behind their back. God, she hoped he was right. Every hospital was feeling the monetary crunch these days. Any donation was a godsend.

Cuddy gritted her teeth as her phone beeped at her again. She pretended not to hear it and continued talking to the couple until they were back in the lobby. She ignored the second beep as well, wondering if it would do any good to send Wilson after House's cell phone.

"Dr. Cuddy, if you need to answer that...." Mr. Larson began solicitously.

"It's fine. Just one of my doctors who needs a little extra personal attention."

Larson laughed heartily. "Oh, I know how that is."

Oh, I don't think you do, Cuddy thought, but she kept her smile on her face as she showed the elderly couple to the exit. She waited until they'd gotten into their car, then headed back into the building. As she walked toward the clinic, she pulled her phone from the pocket of her lab coat and read the second message.

Her steps stuttered because it was somewhat difficult to walk when she'd reflexively clenched her pelvic muscles in reaction to the sudden jolt of arousal. She put her hand to her heated cheek and looked around to see if anyone had noticed her sudden discomposure.

She was going to kill the bastard, no doubt about it. In the meantime, she erased the message and continued walking through the clinic door.

House waited a while for Cuddy to respond. A long while. More than ten minutes. Which wasn't really that long a while but too long for House when he was having fun. And hell, this was kind of fun. Cuddy had been playing back... sort of. He doubted she'd play along for much longer, though.

Text messages were going to get boring eventually, though. He wasn't able to see a reaction. All he could get from her responses were... well, nothing. Especially when she didn't respond. He looked up her cell number and kept it on display as he faced towards his office phone. He punched in the extension number, then Cuddy's cell phone number.

He put the phone to his ear and listened to it ringing. The moment it was answered, he said, "So, what did your imagination come up with?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes as her phone rang just as she was passing by the nurse's station. Brenda started toward her and she waved her off, making a beeline for her office.

She flipped the phone open and House's voice was immediately in her ear. That low, slightly rough voice combined with the mental images she was trying to forget did something to her that...that she did not have time to contemplate right now.

"I just imagined about two dozen ways to kill you. Most of which would be considered justifiable homicide," she growled into the phone. She glanced behind her to make sure no one was near her door, then stalked to her desk.

"What the hell are you trying to do to me?"

House couldn't help grinning at the frustration in Cuddy's voice. Okay, so he really shouldn't have been having as much fun with this as he was. But it was a damn good distraction, riling Cuddy up. And yeah, he knew he'd likely get murdered for it like Cuddy was threatening, but the fun far outweighed the consequences right now.

"Thought maybe you'd be imagining two dozen places we could go to thoroughly investigate these apparent missing panties of yours," he replied in a low voice. Then he taunted, "You sound sexy when you're angry."

He glanced at Cameron, who was standing up from her chair and heading across to the kitchenette, then smirked again at Cuddy's next words. He faced away from Cameron, leaning his elbow on his desk and making it look like he was engaged in a serious conversation.

"Don't know," he replied when she demanded to know what he was trying to do to her. "Make you happy, make you horny. You don't sound too happy right now, but judging from the fact that you're threatening to kill me suggests you're definitely horny. However, I'm sure you can imagine the different ways I could make you happy. Namely with my fingers. Or maybe my mouth."

He paused, then added with mock sincerity, "Is this a bad time?"

Cuddy let out another low growl. If he thought she sounded sexy when she was angry, he should love the sound of her when she was feeling homicidal.

She looked around in frustration when he started suggesting ways he could make her happy. She needed him to stop doing this. She needed him to stop saying these things, but she didn't dare march up to his office and make him stop. Even if she had the time to deal with his boredom, she didn't trust herself near him. When he got her riled up, she wasn't always so careful about what she said or who might be around to hear it.

"You know it's a bad time," she said sharply. She ran a hand through her hair. "Can't you go annoy Wilson or something?"

"Not really," he replied. "You never answered my question when I asked you where you were. You could be in your office on your own for all I know. How can that be a bad time?" He couldn't resist; he added, "Seeing you apparently haven't got any underwear on, it could be a very good time."

Truthfully, Cuddy was definitely more fun when she herself was being fun. Threatening homicide wasn't so fun. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if she came up to his office and started blasting the crap out of him in anger over what he was doing. He was banking on her not doing that, though. They'd both agreed to keep this thing on the low, and he doubted Cuddy would want to cause a scene with him, not while people were around and could hear them.

Which he supposed could beg the same question why he was doing this to Cuddy. It was better than sitting in his office, at his desk, with nothing to do or think about than the shooting. If he didn't keep himself busy or his mind on other things, productive or not, he always ended up mulling over what happened to him. And his nightmares. And the fact that a small part of him knew he needed to do something about how he was coping with it all. But so long as there were distractions, then there was no need to think about any of that stuff.

Besides, teasing Cuddy while she had an important day of making good impressions with people? Totally an opportunity he couldn't miss, whether he was in a relationship with her or not. Had he not been in a relationship with her, he likely would've gone about with the same kind of antics just for his own amusement. The only difference was that he had way more ammo to knock her off guard with.

He pulled a face at Cuddy's suggestion of annoying Wilson. "Asking him to use his imagination when it comes to my fingers would seem like I was coming onto him. Annoying you is way more fun."

He lowered his voice again, deliberately making his voice rough. "So, are you alone?"

Cuddy blew out an exasperated breath. Of course it was more fun to annoy her than Wilson. House had all kinds of new ways to mess with her, and the problem was it was working. She was used to his disruptive antics but it was different now. He was using her desire for him to throw her off-stride and she didn't have strong enough defenses against that weapon. It was too new and too powerful.

"Yes, I'm in my office. Yes, I'm alone." She didn't tell him she hadn't exactly been alone when she'd nearly melted at the mere suggestion of his fingers on her body. That would only encourage him. Still, a small shiver ran through her at the rough sound of his voice.

She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to quickly sort through the folders on her desk. She really, really didn't have time for this. She had to squeeze in a meeting with her Chief of Security, grab a quick bite of lunch, and then off to speak to the medical students. No, she definitely didn't have time for sex, phone or otherwise.

"I'm going to hang up now, House. Feel free to use your imagination in any way you like. Just don't tell me about it. Please."

"You mean you're alone now," he replied. "Meaning weren't alone five minutes ago. You wouldn't be so cranky and telling me to go away if I'd caught you on your own. You'd just be impatient. Or maybe more playful."

He sat back in his chair and lifted his arm, resting his forearm against the top of his head in a casual posture as he listened to Cuddy telling him she was cutting the conversation short. He raised his brows when she pleaded with him. "Gee, I dunno," he began. "If memory serves me correctly, the last time you said 'please' to me like that was that morning when I went down on you, and you told me to use my fing--"

He was cut short by the sound of the call suddenly ending. Well, Cuddy did say she was going to hang up, he supposed. But still. He moued slightly as he pulled the phone from his ear, stretching the receiver across to his desk to hang up. He quickly grabbed up his cell phone and sent her a text message. That wasn't very nice. I was just getting to the good bit where you had that hard orgasm.

He set his phone down and laid his hands on his desk, and drummed his fingers. Maybe it was time he found something else to do. He eyed the things on his desk that needed attention - specifically, the mail he was supposed to respond to, or dictation he was supposed to complete. He didn't have clinic duty, seeing Cuddy had agreed to giving him a reprieve from it, as they'd discussed that day he came in to pay her a visit. That seemed like ages ago now. A lifetime ago, even though it was actually only a couple of weeks ago. So much had happened between then and now.

He snapped out of his thoughts and darted his eyes to his computer, then across at Cameron, who was still in the conference room. He thought for another moment before grabbing his cane and cell phone and standing up. He made his way out of his office into the hallway and started towards the elevator. The doors were just opening as he approached it, and it was going down, so he quickly entered.

Cuddy quickly disconnected the call before House could tell her how he'd used his fingers. Yes, she already knew how he'd used his fingers but she didn't need to hear it.

She leaned forward, resting her hands against the edge of her desk, and took a deep, calming breath. She was annoyed with him but more, she had to react with anger because the alternative was to admit that the sound of his voice and the things he'd been saying were enough to get her hot in a different way from anger. Or maybe the anger was sort of part it. Either way, she couldn't let him know that he could do this to her, not during a busy work days. If he knew, he'd never stop.

Just then another text showed up on her phone. She looked down at the message and swallowed hard. Fuck. If only her memory weren't so good. If only she didn't remember how hard that orgasm had been.

She quickly grabbed up the papers she'd need and hurried to the door. She had to get out of there. House could find her anywhere with her phone or pager but she didn't want to give him the chance to corner her in her office. Not when her mind was vividly recalling one of his fantasies that involved her desk. She hurried past Brenda, again waving her off, and headed for the elevators.

While the elevator descended, House flipped his cell phone open again, took a quick glance at the people that were in the elevator with him, then opened up the text messaging option again to send her another message. The elevator stopped at the second floor, and he stepped aside to let a couple of nurses pass him, and returned to his messaging as the doors slid closed again.

He was just about finished with his message when the elevator reached the first floor. He scrolled through his number list to look for Cuddy's number to send the message, glancing up as the doors opened.

And there was Cuddy.

House was actually really surprised to see her standing right there. It showed on his face, too, for a split second. Then he composed himself, darted his eyes to his cell phone, back up to Cuddy, and gave her a mock look of 'oops, I've been caught red-handed'. And actually, now that he was face-to-face with her, it suddenly occurred to him that he wasn't comfortable with people knowing he was in a relationship with Cuddy. So, all his antics that he'd been pulling for the last hour felt like they'd kind of come back to bite him on the butt.

He managed to keep himself composed, though. He snapped the phone shut and stepped to the side to let a person wheel someone in a wheelchair from the elevator, and then turned his attention back to Cuddy.

"Going up, or going down?" he asked once it was just Cuddy and him, a deliberate leer to his tone.

Cuddy was in such a hurry to lose herself somewhere else in the hospital that she was running on automatic. She went directly for the elevator because it didn't occur to her to take the stairs, the one place she could be reasonably certain of not seeing House. It didn't occur to her, that is, until the elevator door opened and she found herself staring directly at him.

At that point it was too late. She couldn't turn and take the stairs now because that would prove to House, and anyone else who might be watching, that she couldn't deal with him. No way she was going to admit that.

"Going dow...." She shot him a sharp look, picking up on the double entendre. "I'm going to the lower level."

Her posture was a little stiffer than usual as she stepped into the elevator but she'd composed her features into a bland expression. She reached over and pushed the button for the basement and waited for House to exit. Surely he was going to exit?

"Are you getting off? Out. I meant are you getting out?"

House just raised his brows innocently at the sharp look Cuddy gave him. He turned his eyes up to the numbers above the door as though they were fascinating as Cuddy stepped into the elevator. He replied, "How low are we talking? Waist level?"

He shot her a quick look, one that clearly mock protested, 'I didn't say anything' before she could launch something back at him. He supposed he should alight the elevator and go and find something else to do. Get some food. Get a coffee. A paper, maybe. Find out from various sources what Cuddy's schedule for the rest of the day was.

But as Cuddy reached across and pressed the button, he pocketed his phone and settled both hands on the handle of his cane, in front of him. He wasn't going anywhere; he stood, still pleasantly absorbed in looking up at the numbers above the door like going to the basement with Cuddy was an everyday thing.

He widened his eyes at what Cuddy said next, and threw her a scandalous look. "Was that a Freudian slip?" he replied. And of course, Cuddy then corrected herself, and he replied to that, "'Getting off' sounded more fun. Wouldn't be surprised if you're thinking about getting off. Figuratively. Or maybe literally."

He shrugged and looked back up to the numbers again. "Thought I'd come for the ride," he continued, just as the doors started to close. He looked across at Cuddy again. "That way, we can both get off together after the ride," he said, emphasising the pun words in that last sentence.

Cuddy pressed her lips together and prayed for someone, anyone, to join them in the elevator. Anything that would make House keep his mouth shut.

"The only 'getting off' I'm thinking of is getting off this elevator," she said under her breath.

A lie, because of course she was thinking about sex. If his plan was to kill her with sexual frustration, he was off to a good start. Being as sensual as she was...it was usually a very good thing. It meant she responded strongly to certain stimuli, not just touch but sound, scent. And it meant that she reacted even to the mere suggestion, or even the memory of those stimuli. Normally that meant she got a pleasant warm feeling that she could enjoy but didn't overwhelm her. With House, though, she was reacting as strongly as though they were alone in her bedroom. And while part of her was excited by the depth of her passion for him, the rest of her just wanted to smack him upside the head.

"You're bored, I get it," she said, turning to him the moment the elevator doors were closed. "But you have to find some other way to occupy your mind. A new patient, maybe. Or you could try meditation. Just leave me alone."

House was relieved no one else boarded the elevator. He was just as glad the doors finally closed, too. The part of him that was still acutely self conscious of people finding out they were together could relax a little now no one else could see them. He probably should've thought about the whole acutely self conscious thing before he started pestering Cuddy the way he was now. It had just seemed like fun at the time. In fact, it still was; riling Cuddy (and Wilson) up was a pastime of his, after all, particularly when he was bored.

He looked at Cuddy when she turned to him once the doors shut. Now they were alone, he was able to study her face properly. The expression she was sporting didn't go amiss on him: her dilated pupils, the way her cheeks were a little flushed, the intensity of her gaze. It was exactly the way she looked when she was aroused. The only difference here was, she looked equal parts frustrated, if not angry.

He screwed one eye shut as though thinking hard at Cuddy's few suggestions of curing his boredom. "Let's see," he replied, holding a hand out in a fist. He started ticking each point off by holding up a finger to mark each point: "No new cases. No clinic. Paperwork to avoid. Meditating is for new age vegetarians and Buddhists." He held up his last finger and paused as he tried to think of a fifth point, then gave up and dropped his hand to his side as he looked back to Cuddy once more.

"You could've turned off your cell phone. You could've taken the stairs. You could've chosen to completely ignore me. But you didn't." He gave her a 'so there' look. He then leaned down a little so he was nearer to Cuddy, and studied her closer. "Flushed cheeks. Dilated pupils. Possible increased heart rate, definitely increased blood pressure. What do you think could be the differential for those symptoms, Dr. Cuddy?"

He stood tall and looked back up to the numbers above the elevator door, straightening his shoulders. "So, how've your meetings been going? Been running smoothly, I hope."

Cuddy stammered out sounds of disbelief and disagreement when he listed the ways she could've ignored him. She couldn't completely ignore House without the risk of ignoring someone who might have a legitimate reason to need her attention. Sure, there were some measures she could take to avoid him but she refused to be forced to skulk around her own hospital just because he was bored.

She stood her ground as House leaned closer, her chin jutted out in defiance. She wasn't going to crack that easy. She assured herself that she could resist his attempts to throw her off balance. She just needed to treat his comments like she'd always treated his sexually charged comments. She needed to pretend they were pure fantasy and not based in reality.

"Increased blood pressure, increased heart rate...sounds like anger to me," she said. It was only half a lie after all; she was annoyed. "Keep pushing it and I'll return the favor."

She hugged her files to her chest. She was worried about what her body language might tell him. She didn't want to encourage him. As a fantasy, his repeated attempts to rile her up were kind of...hot. In reality, not so much.

"No thanks to you," she said in a low voice. "What exactly is it you're trying to accomplish anyway?"

House quirked his brows and looked down at Cuddy. "Do you mean 'return the favour' in the reciprocity way?" He raised his brows at her. "Kind of like I kiss your ass, you kiss mine?"

He returned his gaze ahead of him again. Mentioning the reciprocity thing made him think back to last night, the way he and Cuddy had lain together and kissed, cuddled, and talked. He felt a weird feeling of warmth as well as nerves flutter in his stomach at the memory, and felt the back of his neck heat up slightly in response to those feelings. He cleared his throat and tried to shake those feelings off. He didn't like getting them at work.

Which was probably part of the reason why he was being such a jerk to Cuddy now: yes, he was bored, but also he still had no idea how to handle this thing between them while at work. It definitely seemed much easier to pursue her in the same manner he did before they got together, because taunting Cuddy relentlessly with sexual innuendo was familiar.

He glanced down at her quickly out of the corner of his eyes and noticed the way she was holding the files close to her chest. She looked almost... insecure. He turned his attention ahead of him again. "Why are you holding those files to your chest like it's a life vest?" he replied, deflecting her question.

He actually wasn't completely sure what he was trying to accomplish as such. A reprieve from boredom. Entertainment. A distraction from having to think about the shooting, seeing there was no escape from thinking about it as long as he was in his office. Testing to see how much Cuddy could take from him at work, maybe. Because, well... there was nothing like riling Cuddy up with actual ammo. Seeing her react to it and trying not to was definitely amusing to him, too.

The elevator reached its destination and sounded a ding before the doors started rolling open. He looked across at Cuddy once again. "Just making sure you don't forget about me," he said, finally answering her question and giving her an obnoxious, overly sweet smile.

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean by returning the favor: a tease for a tease," Cuddy said with predatory smile. "You may think it's amusing to try to distract me while I'm doing my job, but I think it would be immensely more entertaining to watch you try to do anything after I've whispered in your ear about...chocolate."

She wouldn't; unlike House, she had limits. Usually she had limits. Occasionally he pushed her past them but damn it, it wasn't fair for him to have all the fun and cause all the mischief while she had to be the responsible, respectable one. The game was rigged from the get-go and House held all the cards because he didn't play fair.

She merely clutched the files more closely to her when he called attention to them. They didn't hide much but she didn't want him to start making comments on her cleavage. She certainly didn't want him to see the faint flush that spread down from her neck. Between the memories of the previous night and the messages he'd been sending her, her physical reaction to him was automatic, especially in an enclosed space like this. And hadn't he had a fantasy about the elevator...?

"As if." Cuddy abruptly stepped in front of him, blocking his way out of the open doors. She leaned in and dropped her voice low for privacy. "Stop now, House. You've had your fun, now let me do my job and you go do...something that has nothing to do with me."

Then she turned on her heel and walked as fast as she could down the corridor.

Cuddy whispering in his ear about chocolate. Hmm. He had to pause to think about that. He could remember how unglued he'd become in the Burger King parking lot when that had been brought up. He didn't really like the idea of being caught hugely off guard like that, at work. In front of people. Of course, he'd try to play it off with an act of some kind. But 'try' was the key word there. Being in a relationship with Cuddy definitely added different dimensions to the whole taunting each other thing.

"I can just as easily whisper into your ear about vanilla," he countered, trying to ignore the recurring flush creeping up the back of his neck again. "Or other flavours. Such as the one between your legs."

He went to step out of the elevator, only to find himself blocked by Cuddy. He peered down at her. He frowned at first, then pulled his face into one of innocence. He didn't get a chance to respond, though, because Cuddy then quickly turned and headed off. So, he lifted his cane and whacked it against the elevator door to stop it from closing, and watched her ass as she headed down the corridor.

Once she'd reached where she wanted to go, House lowered his cane and stepped back, catching one last glimpse of Cuddy before the elevator doors closed, and he hit the button for the first floor. Once he arrived there, he alighted and headed towards Brenda at the front desk.

"I need to know when Cuddy is conducting her initiation ceremony on the newbies," he greeted, slapping his hand on the counter to get her attention.

Brenda looked up from her work and shot him a suspicious look. "Why?"

Why? Why, indeed. He drummed his fingers impatiently and quickly tried to come up with a believable reason. "Because she said I was going to be giving lectures this year," he lied. "And I have to introduce myself to them."

"And she didn't tell you the time?" she asked suspiciously. "Memo? Email?"

"I don't read my mail."

Brenda still looked suspicious, but she replied warily, "At 2. After her meeting with the Chief of Security."

House's attention pricked up. "And that's happening...?"

"After lunch."

"Where?"

House immediately started to head off when Brenda told him the place Cuddy's meeting would be, ignoring Brenda's added demands to know why he wanted to know. He decided he'd grab a bite to eat, go back up to his office, maybe find something else to do. Which he did: he grabbed a quick takeaway lunch from the cafeteria and headed up to Wilson's office to eat it. Wilson wasn't there, so House made himself comfortable at Wilson's desk, sitting back with his feet propped up, dropping crumbs all over Wilson's desk as he ate.

At around just after 1pm, when he was certain Cuddy would be in her meeting with the Chief of Security, he picked up Wilson's office phone and dialed Cuddy's cell phone.

"Let's play a word association game," he said, the moment she answered. "I'll start. Nipples. Suck, lick, bite."

The moment Cuddy got out of House's view, she had to stop and give herself a moment to cool off before settling into her next meeting. House was just so...gah! Here she was, squeezing her thighs together again just because of few well chosen words.

The rest of her morning went better, though. House actually left her alone and she was able to regain some sense of equilibrium. She was even able to steal some time to enjoy her leftover fettucini for lunch. The rich flavor reminded her of how enjoyable the evening had been. Which in turn reminded of how enjoyed the night had been and boy, she was right back where she'd been.

"I can't get away from him," Cuddy muttered as she cleared away her trash.

"From who?" Brenda asked, standing just inside the door with an armful of patient files.

"Guess," Cuddy said, stacking up a different set of folders for her afternoon.

"Speaking of Dr. House...," Brenda began.

"Don't," Cuddy said, throwing up her free hand. She hurried across the office toward the door. She stopped in the women's room just long enough to freshen up, then made her way to the Chief of Security's office.

After House's shooting, Cuddy had demanded that their safety and security measures be reviewed and, where necessary, revised. It wasn't that she thought the security guards were bad at their jobs; they just hadn't been expecting anything like that. She wanted them to be prepared for anything. She never wanted to get a call like the one she'd gotten that day.

She'd just gotten the initial pleasantries out of the way when her phone rang. She sighed and looked down at it, but it showed Wilson's number so she didn't think twice about answering. She was so startled by what House said that she dropped the phone.

"House," she told the puzzled security director. He nodded and immediately lost interest. House had a tendency to do that to people.

She really should've known better. She was disgusted with herself for forgetting that House never simply gave up. And frustrated with herself for reacting. A full sensory memory of House biting her nipples had immediately flashed into her mind and it took all her self control to not squirm in her chair.

She grabbed the phone up. "Dr. House, how nice of you to call. Good-bye." She hung up and turned back to the Chief of Security, her smile just a little forced.

House jerked the phone from his ear when he heard the loud clanking sound on the other end. Cuddy hanging up, maybe? He put the phone back to his ear and heard her say House's name but not to him. She must've been explaining to whomever she was with who was on the other end.

"Dr. Cuddy," he greeted back brightly when she spoke his name into the phone. "How---"

He barely registered the 'goodbye' before the call suddenly ended. He pulled the phone from his ear and looked at the receiver with a frown. He then sat forward and replaced it to its cradle and sat back, taking another bite of his sandwich. He supposed he could try calling again. But he doubted she'd answer, especially if she took note of the fact that call came from Wilson's office this time. He contemplated texting her.

But, as he finished off his sandwich and scrunched up the paper, he decided she'd probably ignore that, too. He tossed the scrunched up wad of paper onto Wilson's desk and grabbed up his cane and his apple. He left his mess for Wilson to clean up, and headed out of the office. He caught the elevator to the floor where the Chief of Security's office was and headed towards the office itself.

The door was solid wood, but there was a window next to the door that looked into the office. The blinds were open, too, so he had a clear view of Cuddy sitting in on the meeting. He stood in plain view and looked in with interest, idly eating his apple.

For a while after she'd hung up on House, Cuddy continued to feel antsy. Partly because she was trying, and failing, to erase the sexual images from her mind, and partly because she kept expecting her phone to ring again. She didn't believe he would give up now but as the minutes passed without further interruption, she was able to focus again on the task at hand.

Which, of course, was about the time she glanced toward the door, purely by happenstance, and there was House. She immediately turned her head away, as if not seeing him would mean he wasn't there. Unfortunately, as she went through the list of suggested security improvements, she could almost feel House's gaze, a heat on her skin.

After all his efforts today, everything he did seemed to heat her skin. She resolutely ignored him for several minutes but she couldn't get her mind or her body to forget his lurking presence just outside the door. She dropped one of her hands low, out of sight of the security director, and made shooing motions at House. He simply continued to munch on his apple.

She wanted to march out in the hall and give him a piece of her mind. That would be pointless, though, because getting her worked up was the whole point. So instead, she shifted her chair around slightly so that the door was almost directly at her back.

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