Well, I don't own House M.D. nor the characters. And it's not angsty for once! (You all know how I love angst) I wanted to keep this on the short side and include a little bit of lyric, a little bit of the essence at the end of Ugly, and a little bit of Cuddy attempting to do her 'Stacy' southern accent again. Ha. Enjoy!

"Heaven's not a place that you go when you die. It's that moment in life when you actually feel alive." - The Spill Canvas

Her smile illuminated the majority of her office. It was one of those moods he liked on her. The kind that made her glow from within. The kind that never had an ounce of hurt. It was something greater than anything he could ever describe.

She teased him, that smile hitting him hard enough that insults weren't as easy to produce. His sarcasm was demolished by her eyes, which were lit in her personal enjoyment of attempting to get under his skin.

"You deserve a raise," she continued on. "And a plaque."

"Enough," he gave her a gentle warning.

"Oh! And a wing of the hospital dedicated to you." She made a sorry attempt at holding back a laugh. "Gregory House: hero, mentor, friend."

She covered her mouth as her eyes teared up in her amusement. He gave a half grin, doing his best to not give in to her enthusiasm behind her words.

"I have half a mind to-" he began, hoping to move the subject on.

"Half a mind to what?" she cut him off as she moved around her desk. "Destroy me with your devoted concern? Hurt me with your love for humanity?"

"Quite the opposite, actually." He stepped closer to her. "It involves rope... a gag... a ten foot deep ditch."

"Murder plots from that dear, darling Greg House?" She placed a shocked hand to her chest. "Why, I don't believe it!"

"Seriously, Cuddy, you can stop any time." He tried to be menacing, but she had thrown him into a state of weakness. It wasn't often when she smiled this long in his presence.

"But, Mrs. Hopkins said you were such a lovely man," she told him. "How can I just ignore the fact that you made a sponsor invest in this hospital with your apparent charm? I have now witnessed a miracle."

"I was being sarcastic," he tried to defend himself. "The woman mistook my comment about her rancid perfume as a compliment. And when I ordered Foreman to stop being a jackass and do his damn job, she understood this to be concern when I just don't like Foreman."

"She came in here and said 'oh, that Dr. House,'" Cuddy began in a terrible southern drawl as she walked away from House before turning suddenly, "'what a lovely, devoted doctor he is. The way he takes control and makes sure the patients are the number one priority. Dr. Cuddy, you are so lucky to have him. What a fine man, what a fine doctor!'" Cuddy dropped the accent. "It took everything in me not to cut her off and ask if she wast talking about Dr. Gregory House. And that was just the beginning of her clear love for you and," the terrible accent reappeared, "everything you do for this hospital."

"You know, she was probably racist and just wanted Foreman to leave out of fear of being mugged." House knew it was pointless to keep up his act of defense because Cuddy would never believe his excuses. "And she's probably missing half her brain."

"I just wanted to thank you, Dr. House." Cuddy crossed the room with professionalism and stuck out a hand, indicating she wanted to shake his. "Thank you for being such a loyal and wonder-"

House grabbed Cuddy's hand and pulled her into him. She crashed heavily against him and he held his ground as he lifted her chin. He brought his lips swiftly to hers, coaxing her into a kiss, and making sure to cause a slight pain by sucking hard on her bottom lip before pulling away. She stared up at him.

"Finally," he began, not as breathless as she, "I've found an effective way to shut you up."