Hi, this is going to be a short story for English is not my mother tongue and I find it quite difficult to write in English. Besides, I'm not a gifted writer. Though I just had to write this fic to get it out of my chest. I 'm totally a House-Cuddy shipper!

Please bare my mistakes on grammar or whatever you find, and feel free to correct them and mail it to me.( I'd really appreciate it! Thanks for reading!

Of course reviews are always welcome if not necessary!

Disclaimer

I do not own any of the characters in this story.

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Chapter one

She did remember the day things started to change or better said, the night. Quite accurately, she admitted.

It had started as a simple regular day of her life. Woken up and go to work, work and work. One might think that her work as Dean of Medicine was boring, but she knew better. Well, sometimes it was really stressful and demanding, but then there was him, her pain in the ass: House. Therefore, she might have agreed it to be stressful and demanding at times, especially when handling House, but boring? Nah, she was never bored when it came to House.

So, it started as an ordinary day in her life to turn to the most unforgettable night of her life. Things were going just fine until ten when she finished some urgent papers, grabbed her belongings and headed home, thinking of a long hot bath and her bed. But then, turning a corner of a street she recognized a bike, House' bike, right outside of a night bar. She checked the clock, ten fifteen, and wondered how long House 'd been in there. She remembered seeing him leave the hospital at seven. Some other day she might had just driven past but not that day. She didn't quite know what mysterious forces made her pull up the car and get inside the bar that very night.

The first thing she noticed was the smoke-polluted air that filled her nostrails and made her wrinkle her nose, and then she saw him at the far side of the room. She took a moment just to watch him. He was quite drunk, she could tell…and also rather scruffy, unshaven, and she could go on, but the word that popped in her mind was attractive. Yes, he was just bold attractive, she hated to admit. She approached him and then looked again and realized she had missed out bitterness and sadness and… pain. His posture seemed relaxed, his cane rested unceremoniously across the table, and in his hand an empty glass. His eyes were closed and he could have been mistaken asleep, but she knew better. She could just see his jaw muscles tensed up and the dead grip on the glass.

' House.' She called him but obtained no response. 'House.'

Nothing.

'House.' She poked him. 'House'

He opened his eyes and grunted for being bothered. His blood-injected eyes stared at her but not really seeing her, then he turned his sight to the glass.

'It's empty.' He stated quite ridiculously, but before he could make a gesture for another one, she stopped him. He then stared at her hand on his wrist.

'House.' She took the seat in front of him.

He eyes returned to her, and he raised his eyebrows as to recognize her, but frowned when he did.

'Cuddy.' He drawled out her name in a low whisper.

Maybe it was because he was drunk, therefore his voice lacked his usual strong, or even sarcastic tone, and that made her tremble upon hearing her name on his lips.

He raised his hand again to order another round only to be stopped again by her. This time he did really stare at her with a real House glare. Those that could spook the devil itself. However this was Lisa Cuddy, and on certain occasions it might have worked, just not this time.

'How many have you had?' She asked concerned.

'Why mon?' He retorted moodily.

'C'mon, I'll take you home.' She said standing up.

He then again glared at her, but she just looked back with a neutral expression. He didn't move though.

'House.' Though her face was still inexpressive, her voice was not.

He just looked at her and she saw that infamous sparkle in his eyes whenever he was challenged. Oh, no, she thought. It was late and she was tired and the last thing she wanted to handle at that moment, if ever, was House'stubbornness and his exasperating mood. Some other day she would have just walked away and let him be, but not that night. She wondered what possessed her that day to do what she did.

'Get up House.' She used her bossy tone. 'Get up.' And it miraculously worked.

House did stand up, but nearly fall when his knees buckled. She was on time to catch him before he fall head straight to the floor. He tried to loosen himself from her grip but she didn't let him, instead she grabbed his cane and gave it to him.

'Now move.' She half escorted half helped him to the door and into her car after she paid the bill. He struggled to free himself at first but then just half leaned on her. She was surprised at this, maybe he was more drunk than he seemed.

She left his bike there. He 'd have to get it back tomorrow. Luckily for her, the drive to House 's home was short, because it 'd have been a really bad task to wake a very drunk Gregory House.

She parked the car at the entrance and looked towards House, who had been oddly quiet through the way home. He had his head rested against the seat but his eyes were wide open staring blankly at nothing in front of him. She could tell he was lost in old painful memories because when she touch his arm he was startled and looked abruptly at her. And in the briefly second their eyes locked she saw it. The flikering of pain. His pain. And then he adverted his eyes just as fast and masked it so truly perfectly that made her heart ached. And she hated the feeling because it was so not hers to feel. Sometimes when she felt nostalgic she would wonder why she was fighting so hardly to keep him at the hospital or just why she bothered herself dealing with him. Was it because he was extremely brilliant? Or maybe it was the guilt of what she had done to his leg? Or maybe….maybe it was some other thing she would never let herself acknowledged?

She sighed. This was nor the place nor the time to think about that topic, if she ever would consider thinking of it.

She helped him out of the car after he failed several times doing so and then into the house. She would have left after that, however, she couldn't stand the way he spread himself so uncomfortably onto the small couch.

'C'mon, let's get you in bed.' She sighed, figuring if she had come this far, she might do it all. 'Which one?' She picked him up and helped him into the bedroom he had pointed with his cane.

And this was the beginning of the turning point of the whole story or perhaps it was not, if she had chosen differently. But she hadn't.

She didn't immediately rise up after they fall together in his bed when helping him in, she landing on top of him and their lips touching briefly. She threw apart startled but just couldn't break their eye contact. She was eclipsed by his sea blue eyes that were at that precisely moment so clear, with no ghost, nor pain, nor another woman, just him. She was not able to resist the urge to kiss him that invaded her, therefore she just did so.

And he responded with fierceness and a passion she always knew he had.

The rest was history. Clothes off…entwined limbs….and pleasure.

Yes. It had been like….WOW.

She woke up several hours later to find him sound asleep besides her. She watched him and her heart melted. She hated the feeling, because that would only say all this was not just sex as she would have like it to be. This was more and she just was not prepared to admit this very truth, not even to herself. But then she had no excuse to explain what just happened. He was drunk. That was his excuse, but hers?

She smiled a sad smile when she realized that she made love to Gregory House while for him it probably was just sex and she couldn't bare it. It was easier to deal with him without this knowledge, to deal with his pain, with his hate, with his Stacy…..but now she felt too exposed to him. And she knew he might hurt her, not because he wanted to but because he was just human.

Now, come to think of it, she should have left right when she could, but then when was when?

She left House 'house silently and headed home.

Time went on, and she decided to just pretend it never happened. He did so. But maybe he just didn't remember or maybe he just pretended, for both sake, that he didn't. Either way she was not going to take the risk to find out. Tough things changed after that night. They changed.

Yeah! She definitely remember the day things started to change or better said, the night.

Let me know what you think and if you'd like more.

Please read and review !Thanks!