The alarm on the nightstand closest to Cuddy flicked from 4:59 to 5:00, screaming at her to get out of bed. She whimpered slightly, silencing the alarm with the palm of her hand, waiting expectantly for the low rumbling sound of House's mocking voice, once again berating her for choosing to leave the comfort of her bed at such an ungodly hour. When it didn't come, she rolled further on to her back and stretched an arm out behind her, searching the other side of the bed. When her hand came up empty and she felt no residual heat she knew that his patient had kept him at the hospital all night.

A small disappointed sigh escaped her as she forced herself out from under the thick and inviting comforter, grabbing her Blackberry from where it was charging on the nightstand and heading towards the kitchen to start the coffee maker. Leaning one hip against the kitchen counter as the aroma of coffee started to waft around her, Cuddy looked blearily at the small screen of her Blackberry, checking for anything remotely urgent. One text message. House. She smiled slightly and opened the text. If you are waking up to this instead of me then that is because my patient is dying, his wife is a liar, and my team are morons. H. Cuddy grinned as she put her phone down on the counter, left the coffee to percolate and headed off to start her morning yoga, hoping that she could get at least an hour done before Rachel was up for the day.

Stepping in to the hospital at exactly 8.52, take out coffee cup and briefcase in hand, Cuddy stopped at the reception desk to pick up her messages before heading towards the clinic. Looking up from the pink slips in her hand she spotted Foreman filling out a clinic chart and then handing it off to a nurse. As he reached for another chart, Cuddy's hand came down on top of it and he started, turning to face her.

"Uh, yeah?"

"What are you doing in the clinic? I heard on the grapevine that your patient is dying," she replied, raising an eyebrow. Foreman sighed, a little wearily she noted.

"He is. We hit a brick wall on the DDX about an hour ago. House said he needed to think and I haven't seen him since. I couldn't think or sleep, so came here. Didn't think it would be such a problem," he looked at her pointedly as he slid the chart out from under her hand, before turning towards the patients seated in the waiting area.

Unlocking the door she entered the dim room, heading towards her desk to leave her briefcase and coffee, before shrugging off her winter coat. She switched on the lamp at her desk and turned to hang her coat on the stand, just as a rough and sleep soaked voice startled her.

"Easy on the light, Cuddy. People are trying to sleep here," he had been asleep on her sofa. One arm was slung over his eyes in an attempt to block out the intrusion her desk lamp had caused, and the other was bent behind his head, acting as a makeshift pillow. His suit jacket was stretched out over his torso and hips. She continued towards the rack and hung her coat.

"Sorry, but I wasn't expecting anyone to be using my locked office as a nap site," sitting on the coffee table in front of the sofa she continued. "You have your own office y'know."

House removed the arm from across his eyes and turned his head slightly to look at her. Knees together, elbows balancing on them, her head resting in the palm of her left hand. She was looking at him expectantly, but her eyes were soft. Slightly amused.

"We weren't getting anywhere with the DDX. Patient is stable, for now, and I figured I'd be able to come up with something with some time to think, away from the kids," he sighed and scrubbed at his face with the hand he had free. Cuddy's lips curved in to a slight smile.

"I'm guessing since you're still here, and Foreman is currently treating patients in the clinic, that you're yet to have one of your, moments?" she asked, watching him as he stared at the ceiling and shook his head slightly. "And you had to do this thinking in my office, because?"

He turned his head to look at her again, his eyes searching her face for any trace of anger. He didn't find any. His arm stretched out towards her and his hand settled around her calf. Smoothing up and down her leg, from her ankle to the back of her knee. She was aware that his touch was not sexual. He was seeking some sort of connection, and she immediately knew why she had found him in her office.

Running a hand soothingly through his completely dishevelled hair as she stood, Cuddy made her way back towards her desk, leaving House to his thoughts, or possibly in peace so he could steal a few more minutes of sleep.

Logging on to her laptop and leaving it to boot up, Cuddy made a start on her inbox, pulling out the significant stack of papers and placing it directly in front of her. She flicked her eyes up in House's direction, checking to see if he was asleep, and noted that his eyes were still open, staring at the ceiling, and one hand was now slowly twirling his cane. He had access to her sofa for another half hour at the most and then he'd have to go find somewhere else to think. She was pretty sure her morning meetings would not go smoothly with House processing his latest case in the corner. At that, House's arm came from behind his head and he helped his bad leg to the floor as he swung to a sitting position. Raising her head to look at him fully, she noticed a slight smirk on his lips. Clearly he just had his moment.

He stood up and strode towards her with the help of his cane, leaning down to plant a kiss on the side of her mouth. He pulled back only enough to look at her smiling up at him, "Eureka" she whispered, her eyes large and laughing. The corner of House's mouth raised slightly in a smirk and he leaned in again, mumbling against her mouth, "And I haven't forgotten it's your birthday", before his lips prised her mouth open gently, and his hand found the back of her head, kissing her soundly before turning and rushing out of her office. Before the door closed she could hear him yelling out in to the relatively quiet clinic.

"Foreman!"

Cuddy grinned as she looked back down at the papers in front of her.

Maybe turning 43 wasn't going to be so bad.

AN: This is my first ever story and has been hanging around my computer screaming to be published for a while now, so I figured, what the hell. It's pretty scary putting your stuff out there for people to judge. Anyway, I have a few chapters of this written already, which I'm gonna post immediatey really, but it's still unfinished. Not sure where I should go from there.

I hope anyone who took the time to read at least this chapter found at least one small thing even slightly appealing.