"…And the lesson learned today, my little Ducklings, is to make sure you're right, when you assume the patient is lying. Now shoo! I don't want to see any of you 'till tomorrow."

Snagging his cane off of the whiteboard, House limps his way towards his office while his team quickly gathers their things and scatter from the room.

Later, after a short conversation with Cuddy and a quick wardrobe change, Thirteen strides through the parking lot towards her car, it's had been a long day, and she just wants to get home.

"Thirteen!" She freezes at the sound of her name being shouted across the lot, and grits her teeth. Ever since her after hour habits came into light, people she worked with kept trying to pull her aside for heart-to-heart talks and frankly, she was getting sick of it. She can hear running footsteps now, and her name being called again.

"What?" she snaps, whirling around to see a stricken and stunned looking Kutner; she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm not really in the mood for a lecture, especially from you."

Kutner gapes at her for a few moments, then, unable to meet her angry gaze, he finds himself staring at their feet instead. She sighs, just before she turns to leave him in favor of her car, when he speaks. "Look...I'm not going to tell you to stop the wild parties, or the drugs, or the sex with random people; I'm not saying that you should keep it up, but- I mean, uh- I just-" Without looking up, he thrusts a scrap piece of paper at her with a phone number scrawled on it. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he makes an attempt to continue. "If you need someone to come get you from somewhere, or just someone to talk to..."

Thirteen stares at the slip of paper in her hand; this definitely wasn't what she was expecting. "Thanks," she manages softly.

Kutner nods jerkily, and she can barely spot the tips of his ears colouring as he turns and starts on a beeline for his car, pausing to call back to her. "See you tomorrow."

Thirteen glances back down at the paper, a smile tugging slightly at the
corners of her mouth.

"Yeah."

****

Its a few weeks later when she calls him, his phone jerking him out of sleep at somewhere around three in the morning and an unfamiliar name and number lit up his call display. He'd honestly forgotten he gave her his phone number, so when Thirteen's slurred voice greets him on the other end of the receiver, hesitantly asking him if he would come pick her up, he's understandably confused for a moment. Nonetheless, five minutes later, he's driving across town with a jacket thrown over a t-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, reading directions to some apartment complex across town scrawled on the palm of his hand.

Before he even arrives at the apartment's door, he can hear the low, steady beat of the music inside. He knocks loud enough to be heard over the music, and after a moment of waiting, the door is answered by a disgruntled looking redhead, who, after giving Kutner an evaluating look, disappeared back inside for a moment, only to return with Thirteen in tow; whom she shoved at him before slamming the door, leaving them alone in the hall.

Thirteen reeks of a combination of booze, pot, and sweat, and as he leads her towards his car, she holds onto his arm to steady herself, giving him a self-conscious sort of smile as she tucks some stray strands of hair behind her ear.

"Thanks for coming."

He returns her smile with a hesitant one of his own, laughing softly as she staggers against him.

"Anytime."

They arrive at his car without incident, and still keeping Thirteen upright, he reaches around her to open the passenger side, helping her inside despite her half-hearted protests that she was 'just drunk, not an invalid'. After climbing into his side, he turns to her.

"Give me the keys to your apartment." This earns him an incredulous look from his companion.

"What?"

He sighs and rolls his eyes at her. "You don't have a purse with you, and you look like you're about to keel over at any minute; if you pass out in my car, I don't want to have to feel you up for your keys." She stares at him for another moment, then nods, fishing her keys from her pocket and handing them to him.

She does, in fact, pass out in the car, snoozing quietly against the window as he drives to her apartment; he doesn't bother waking her when they arrive, and when he juggles her in his arms as he unlocks her door, she doesn't so much as twitch. Once inside he nudges the light switch on with his elbow, flooding Thirteen's apartment with light. Locating the bedroom easily, he takes a moment to survey the room from the doorway; a few outfits that supposedly didn't quite pass muster for the evening lie scattered across her bed, and a small, black and white kitten lies curled on one of the pillows.

With some skillful maneuvering, he manages to get the clothing on the bed moved aside and Thirteen on the bed without waking her; next, Kutner removes the heels still strapped to her feet, placing them beside her bed. Afterward, as he makes to cover her, he notices the kitten is now awake, regarding him curiously with a quiet mew. He smiles and gently scratches the animal gently behind the ear.

"Keep an eye on her for me, alright buddy?"

He leaves Thirteen's keys on the bedside table as he leaves, pausing only to make sure the lights are off and the door locked and heads home; if he's lucky, he'll be able to get a few more hours of sleep before work.

Thirteen doesn't mention anything about the late-night pickup when they get to work, so he doesn't either, but the next day, when they're alone, she hands him a set of obviously freshly-cut keys, and he just smiles at her retreating back.

Hey, me again with another Kudley fic, I hope you enjoy the first of a decent amount of chapters.

As usual reviews and comments are welcome, and a special thanks goes to RemyTheReaper for letting me bounce ideas off of her.

~Arrin