Cuddy saw House out of the corner of her eye and raced down the hallway to catch up with him.
"Looks like someone's anxious to see me," he said. He looked at his watch. "Okay, if you insist, a quickie in your office in 5."
"Freckles is missing," she said, ignoring him.
"How terribly tragic," House said.
"Do you even know who Freckles is?"
"Not a clue."
"Phil Larkin's cat."
"Okay, I'll play along. Who's Phil Larkin?"
"Really House? Your patient? The guy you just cured?"
"Oh yeah. After I've diagnosed them, their names tend to be even less relevant than while I'm diagnosing them."
"Anyway, Freckles is an indoor cat."
"Then he couldn't have gotten very far."
"No, actually, he could have. Because somebody let him out of the house."
"Who would do a thing like that?"
"I don't know, House. Maybe some sort of rogue medical team that breaks into homes while searching for clues?"
"You mean the kind of clues that save people's lives?"
He was limping along rather quickly, which really was an exercise in futility. Even at a slow pace, in heels, Cuddy could keep up with him.
"Didn't you even notice that the cat got out when you opened the door?" she said.
"I did feel something small and cuddly rub up against my leg," House said. "But I thought it was Masters."
"So what are you planning on doing about Freckles?"
"I don't know? Light a candle for him? Tie a yellow ribbon around an old oak tree?"
"Larkin is threatening to sue."
"You've got to be kidding."
"No House. It's a beloved family pet."
"The cat has probably moved on up. To a deluxe apartment in the sky. Larkin's house was sort of a shithole."
They had arrived at the men's room door.
"Would love to continue this chat, Cuddy, but duty calls," he said.
"House, we're not done."
"Actually, we are. Sorry, but no girls allowed."
He gave her a pitiful look and entered the bathroom.
Without hesitating, she burst through the door behind him.
"You can't follow me in here!" he said, genuinely surprised.
"Actually I can, House. My hospital. My men's room."
"Security breach! Security breach!" House yelled. "Our location has been compromised! This is not a drill! I repeat: This is not a drill!"
A toilet flushed and a stall door swung open. Dr. Alan Wong, the bespectacled infectious disease specialist emerged, looking nervous.
"Excuse me," he said. He ducked quickly past them and left.
"Sorry Alan," Cuddy called after him.
She looked back up at House, who was standing with his arms folded.
"Now see what you've done," House said. "Our infectious disease guy just forgot to wash his hands."
"I'll be sure to buy him some Purell," Cuddy said. "Now, where were we?"
House grinned at her.
"We were discussing your pussy."
"Clever, House. . . Yes, Freckles the cat."
"You know what's hot?" House said. He had an all-too familiar look on his face. "You, standing here in the men's room, alone with me, while the hospital is just innocently going about its business."
"Yes, it's a total turn on," Cuddy said sarcastically.
House took a step toward her. "It is," he said. "We're alone. In a forbidden place, and I'm about to touch you in another forbidden place."
"No, you're not."
But he reached under her skirt and between her legs with two fingers.
"House, stop," she said.
"That door could swing open at any moment," he whispered. "And we'd get caught."
"House. . ."
He shifted his fingers a bit inside her. Her knees buckled. He always knew where to touch her.
She closed her eyes, as he wedged her up against the sink bank.
"Let's at least go inside one of the stalls," she breathed.
"No," he said. He unbuttoned his jeans and hiked up her skirt. "It's better like this. The nurses station is only a few feet away. If they only knew what I was doing to you behind this door right now. . ."
"House, someone could walk in. . ."
"Shhhhh," he said.
He cupped her ass and lifted her partially onto the sink.
She let out a little gasp when he entered her.
"Oh Cuddy, you're being a very very bad Dean of Medicine," he said, grinding against her, keeping one eye trained on the door.
A second ago, she had been afraid of being caught. Now she was lost in the fog of arousal. She couldn't think straight.
He lifted her leg to an almost uncomfortable degree and gave a final thrust, before he groaned loudly and came. Then he used his fingers to finish her off—it didn't take much. She let out a sort of muffled version of the loud orgasms she allowed herself at home, before she fell against him, and gave him a rough kiss on the mouth.
"My God, you are seriously the hottest fucking woman on the planet," he said, almost in awe.
He buttoned his pants. Cuddy was still a little dazed from the depth of both her orgasm and her transgression.
He gently lifted her off the sink bank, helped smooth her hair and her skirt.
"Now, what were we talking about before?" he asked.
"I have no idea," Cuddy said.