Cuddy bumped into Chase in the lobby.
"Dr. Cuddy, I'm glad I ran into you," he said. "I'm having a little get together at my house tomorrow night, a kind of, 'Good luck, you'll need it" sort of thing for House's new team and I was hoping you could come."
Cuddy smiled, flattered.
"I'd love to, Chase, but I have plans," she lied.
The truth was, her "plans" involved shopping at Whole Foods and tucking into the new Ann Patchett novel, but she had learned a long time ago that it wasn't wise to socialize with her staff—she ran the risk of losing her authority.
"House will be there," Chase said.
"Is that supposed to be an incentive or a warning?" she cracked.
"Take it however you want to take it. I hope you change your mind. The address is 1210 Poppy Street. Party starts at 8."
She shrugged.
She really had no intention of going, but the next night, there was snow in the forecast and Whole Foods was predictably mobbed. Besides, she was beginning to feel a little sorry for herself—why couldn't she hang out with some of the other doctors? She was sick of being so responsible all the time. What was she going to do, get drunk and do something she regretted?
So she stopped at the local wine merchant, picked up a bottle of Malbec, and headed over to Chase's.
It was 9 pm. Chase answered the door—some vaguely hip-hoppish sounding music was playing in the background and most of the team were dressed in jeans and drinking beer.
Chase looked genuinely pleased to see her. He gave her a somewhat awkward hug, thanked her for the wine, ushered her in.
"You know everyone," he said.
Indeed. Already there were Foreman and Cameron, of course; plus Dr. Taub, who reminded Cuddy of every guy who ever unsuccessfully hit on her in med school, and his surprisingly pretty wife Rachel; the cheerfully frat-boyish Kutner; and the suspiciously gorgeous Thirteen. House always did have a knack for finding young women who were both knockouts and annoyingly qualified for the job.
"Hey," Cuddy said, giving a little wave.
"Wow. Boss lady," Kutner said. "I didn't know you traveled in such rarefied company, Chase."
"Yes, Hilary Clinton will be arriving shortly," Chase quipped.
As promised, House was there, splayed out on the couch, drinking a beer, listening Cameron, who was crouched next to him, talking nonstop. He was wearing the exact same thing he had worn to work that day—the last two days, come to think of it: A black t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. His blazer was draped over the edge of the couch.
Cuddy knew that Cameron and Chase were dating off and on, but at this moment she looked as smitten with House as ever. She was giggling and touching his hand and playing with her hair a bit. She was every inch the besotted college student, sitting at the feet of her favorite professor.
Cuddy noticed Chase look at them and turn away. He started showing Kutner his extensive record collection.
"Nothing but vinyl, baby," he said. "Check out this incredibly rare 12-inch of The Jam live at the Marquee."
Cuddy had to admit that, seeing House, she had a strange sensation, not completely unlike the way she used to feel in high school when the boy she was currently crushing on was at a party.
It was ridiculous. It was House—who she saw every day, who was one of her oldest friends (that is, when he wasn't one of her oldest enemies). And yet, seeing him in this context, she felt slightly unmoored.
So she did what she used to do in high school: She ignored him.
She got into a conversation with Foreman about some hospital matters, and then secretly chastised herself for being so dull as to talk shop at a party.
She met Rachel Taub, who seemed nice, but a little bland.
She chatted with Thirteen, who made such intense eye contact she briefly wondered if the girl was a lesbian.
At some point, House managed to dislodge himself from Cameron and was now lecturing Chase about his taste in music.
"So you've got My Generation, but you don't have Quadrophenia? Oh lad, you have so much to learn."
Meanwhile, Cuddy kept drinking glasses of wine from the bottle she had brought, which was now half empty. She noticed she was the only one drinking it. It was getting late—almost 11 pm. Taub's wife had left half an hour ago (but Taub stayed behind—Kutner was going to give him a ride home) and she saw Foreman heading for the door.
She looked at some photos on Chase's mantle—adorable baby Chase next to his unsurprisingly beautiful parents; tow-headed toddler Chase on a tricycle; Chase, about 10-years-old, holding up a trophy for sailing—and decided that she needed to start thinking about sobering up so she could drive home.
"Are you mad at me or something?"
She turned around. House was standing next to her.
"No, of course not," she said, feeling a bit silly.
"Then why have you been ignoring me all night?"
"Why have you been ignoring me all night?" she countered.
"Because I thought you were ignoring me," he said.
They could go on like this all night.
"Well, I'm not," she said.
He smiled.
"That settles it then," he said.
He cocked his head a bit.
"I didn't expect to see you here," he said.
"What, because I'm the sort of stick-in-the-mud who can never let her hair down and come to a party?"
"Defensive much?" he cracked. "That's not what I meant. It's just that fraternizing with the staff is a no-no, Cuddy. Lines could get blurred, or possibly even crossed." He leaned in ever closer. "Could get dangerous."
It was like the bastard could read her thoughts.
"I'm willing to take that chance," she said.
"So, how do you like my new team?" he asked, deftly changing the subject.
"I like them," she said thoughtfully. "They're all like little strange off-shoots of you."
"You're going to have to clarify that one," he said, interested.
"Well, Thirteen is aloof and inscrutable. Kutner shares your intellectual curiosity bordering on recklessness."
"And Taub? This oughta be good."
"Taub. . .cares about what people think of him."
"Which is the exact opposite of me," House said.
"If you say so," Cuddy said, giving him a sneaky grin.
"You think you're so smart," House said, grinning back, amused.
Cameron, who was watching from across the room, noticed them and frowned.
At that exact moment, Chase raised his glass.
"Who's up for a rousing game of 'I never'?"
Cuddy was familiar with this game. A series of provocative questions were asked, and you drank if the answer was no.
"Definitely my cue to leave," Cuddy said.
"And just when it was about to get fun!" House whined.
"I'll see you on Monday, House. Try not to say anything either of us will regret."
They both knew what she was referring to. He winked at her.
Cuddy said goodnight to Chase and headed to the door. But when she opened it, she saw it was already snowing quite hard. A gust of wind blew so strongly, it slammed the door shut.
"Whoa," she said.
"Maybe you should ride out the storm for a bit," Chase said helpfully.
She skeptically looked out the window. It was really blowing out there.
"Maybe I. . ."
She looked back at the room.
At this point, it was Cameron, Chase, House, Kutner, Taub, and Thirteen, all sitting in a circle around Chase's coffee table.
There was a pitcher of beer on the table and plastic cups that Chase was filling with the frothy liquid.
"Come sit next to me, Dr. Cuddy," Thirteen said. She was sitting on the floor, on a giant Persian-style pillow. She grabbed another pillow off the couch and patted it.
Cuddy sighed. What the hell. She sat yoga-style on the pillow next to Thirteen.
"I'm just an observer," she said.
"There are no observers in the game of 'I never,'" said House. "It's liking wearing pants in a nudist colony."
"Which is why I never go to a nudist colony."
"C'mon Dr. Cuddy, it'll be fun," Kutner said, giving one of those little boy grins of his. "Let your hair down for a change."
House smirked.
"Fine," Cuddy said, somewhat testily. "Let's do this thing."
"Okay, I'll start," said House. "I never had sex in a hospital supply closet."
He gave Chase and Cameron a triumphant look.
They both glared at him and drank.
Cuddy was about to scold them—they had sex at the hospital?—but then reminded herself she was trying to prove to House how laidback she could be.
"Okay, my turn," said Chase. "I never fantasized about having sex with Dr. Cuddy."
Cuddy rolled her eyes, but looked straight at House. He drank quickly, and without hesitation. In fact, every single person around the table drank, except for Cameron. So Thirteen was a lesbian.
"That's too easy," said House. "It's a given that every guy at this table has fantasized about having sex with every woman at this table. It's all part of having a penis. And, in certain cases, a very open-minded vagina." He smiled at Thirteen.
"A better one," said House. "I never fantasized about having sex with Chase."
Cameron and Thirteen both drank. (Open-minded vagina, indeed.) Cuddy didn't drink. Chase was a looker, of course, but not really her type.
Kutner and Taub exchanged a look, shrugged.
"You're pretty, but not that pretty Chase," Taub said.
"How bout this," said Thirteen, raising her eyebrows. "I never had sex with Dr. House." She leaned back on the pillow, looking inordinately pleased with herself.
Chase looked at Cameron, who was looking straight at Cuddy.
Cameron didn't drink.
Cuddy looked down. Shit, shit, shit. She knew this game was a mistake. House was looking at her. It felt like a test. She slowly raised her glass to her lips and drank.
"I knew it!" Thirteen said.
House's mouth dropped open.
"She's . . . confused," he said quickly. "It's her first time playing the game. You only drink if we have had sex, Dr. Cuddy—in real life, not just in both our fevered imaginations."
"Oh," she said. She thought House would be impressed with her boldness. Obviously, he had no intention of coming clean.
"I retract my drink," she said.
"Thank God," Cameron said. Then turned red, as though she hadn't meant to say it out loud.
"So you have fantasized about sleeping with me?" Chase said to Cuddy, just to clarify.
"Let's move on," Cuddy said, mortified.
"Actually, I think we should all move on," House said hastily. "It's past midnight. The snow is only going to get worse. I'm outta here."
He limped up to window.
"Holy Antarctica," he said, looking out.
Everyone popped up. The storm, if anything, had gained intensity. There were now 2 foot drifts in front of the door.
"Looks like everyone is staying the night," said Chase.
Everyone looked at him.
"I have two beds, two sleeping bags, and a couch. We'll have to double up on beds. . .I'll take my bed, with Cameron, if no one objects."
No one did.
"House, you need a bed because of your leg . . .can you handle sleeping next to Taub?"
"It's a dream come true," House said. "For Taub."
"Dr. Cuddy and Thirteen get the sleeping bags. Kutner, you get the couch. Sound fair?"
They all nodded. Chase got the sleeping bags from his closet and threw a few extra blankets on the couch.
"How much do you weigh Kutner?" House asked.
"190, why?"
"I'm just trying to figure out who we'll eat first if Chase runs out of food. Thirteen and Cameron are all bones. Taub is basically just a Happy Meal. Chase is our generous host. Cuddy has some meat on her, but she and I will need to stay alive to propagate the race."
"Very funny House," Cuddy said.
Chase yawned extravagantly. He was basically excited about the prospect of hitting the sheets with Cameron.
"I'm turning in. Anyone need anything?"
"We're good," they said.
One by one, they all made their way to their sleeping quarters and turned out the lights.
"Oh my God Taub, that's not your leg!" House said loudly, as the guest bedroom light turned off.
Kutner giggled.
"Goodnight Thirteen. Goodnight Dr. Cuddy," he whispered.
Cuddy lay awake in her sleeping bag, not believing her lousy luck. There was nothing dignified about sleeping on the living room floor, half drunk, in a sleeping bag next to her subordinates.
Eventually, both Thirteen and Kutner fell asleep. She could hear them breathing next to her.
Cuddy, however, was restless. She was cold. Her back hurt.
"Let me in," a male voice whispered.
House.
"What are you doing, House?" she said.
"Taub snores," he said. "I can't sleep. And I could hear you tossing and turning from the guest room. Let me at least keep you warm."
"House—we can't," she said.
"Of course we can," he replied.
Without getting her permission, he unzipped the sleeping bag and slipped in beside her.
Cuddy closed her eyes. Shit. She was aroused. And she didn't have to fumble in the dark to know that he was aroused, too.
"House, what it someone hears us?" she said.
"Hears us do what? Sleep?"
So maybe that's all he wanted to do. Just sleep.
"Okay, but only for a little bit. Then you need to go back to bed with your lover Taub."
"Deal," he said.
Then he whispered in her ear: "I can't believe you almost told everyone that we did it."
"I thought that was the point of the game."
"Honesty, but not that much honesty."
"My bad," she said. "Thanks for saving me."
"Any time," he said.
Cuddy closed her eyes. And so did House. She had misjudged the situation. They were just going to sleep. She sidled up even closer.
It felt nice to be next to him—his body was lean and warm and he had that delicious House smell—leather mixed with laundry soap mixed with his own unique musk.
She felt herself beginning to relax.
They lay still for a long while.
Then House's hand made its way under her shirt to her bare stomach. It rested there for a long time, almost like he was testing the waters.
She didn't move.
Buoyed on, he began rubbing her stomach in a slow, circular motion.
She said nothing. She could still hear Kutner and Thirteen breathing.
His hands stealthily moved to her breasts.
"House," she said. Of course, she didn't want him to stop. Every nerve ending in her body was on fire.
"Shhhh," he said.
He was breathing loudly now, too. But still hadn't looked at her. His motions were remarkably languorous and still. If anyone were to pass their sleeping bag, they might not even notice.
His hands massaged her breasts, his thumbs idly teasing her nipples, for a long time. Then he began migrating down her stomach, to her pelvis. His hand lingered between her legs. Her own breath became stuttered. He slid two fingers inside her.
She gasped.
"Fuck," he groaned, feeling how wet she was.
"Hooooouse," she said. It was supposed to be another warning. But it came out like a moan.
His fingers were deftly moving in and out of her. He still hadn't faced her. They still hadn't kissed. But she knew that she was about to come.
She started to moan more loudly. Her back arched a bit. House put his hand over her mouth and began moving his fingers with more urgency. She kissed his palm wetly and then bit his hand hard when she came, but managed not to make a sound.
"That's my girl," he whispered into the dark.
######
Chase had wanted to have sex with Cameron, but she was afraid the guests might hear them. He went to bed grumpily and she lay awake, thinking about how near she was to a sleeping House.
Finally, she went to the kitchen to get herself a drink of water. She had to be very quiet, as she would be passing through the living room, where everyone slept.
As she made her way into the kitchen, adjusting her eyes to the dark—she nearly tripped over one of Chase's barbell—she saw some writhing and heard some moaning coming from Dr. Cuddy's sleeping bag.
She stopped dead in her tracks.
Kutner was on the couch, Thirteen was sound asleep a few inches away from her on the floor.
Please be Taub, she thought. Please be Taub. But she knew it wasn't.
She heard very heavy breathing, a male and female gasp. Then an unmistakable male voice:
"That's my girl."
THE END