I started writing this one-shot last week and then I remembered that I got the kernel of the idea from an adieangel fic she had me beta for her. The stories are totally different, but I felt like I needed to give credit where credit was due. Still a great idea, A. Totally House-ian.

[H] [H] [H]

It was late one Friday afternoon. Wilson was standing in Cuddy's office, discussing a budgeting issue, when the door burst open and House stuck his head in. He had his backpack and jacket, leaving for the day.

"Hey," he said to Cuddy, glancing at Wilson.

"Hey," she said back casually.

"See you later?" he asked.

"Um, not tonight," Cuddy answered. House's face fell. She locked eyes with him then. "I'm going out."

House smirked. "Oh. Okay." He glanced at Wilson again.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Cuddy said.

House got a defiant look. "Well, maybe I'll go out too."

Cuddy eyed him. "Do that."

"I will," he said. His smirk grew. "A man has needs, Cuddy."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm aware, House."

"I'll go out with you," Wilson volunteered to House.

House made a disgusted face. "Sorry, Wilson. You don't got what I need." Wilson saw him give Cuddy a quick wink before leaving.

"What's going on?" he asked Cuddy.

"Nothing."

"Are you guys fighting?"

"No."

"So…"

"Wilson, there are some things you just don't need to know about," she said, patting his arm as she passed him to get her coat.

She left him standing in her office, befuddled and not sure how to meddle.

[H] [H] [H]

"Why can't we just have normal familiar sex, like everyone else?" Cuddy had asked him when he'd proposed this idea. They were reading in bed. Well, she was reading while half-listening to his enthusiastic presentation of his idea.

"We can," he'd laughed. "But this is fun. I never got to hit on you because we always knew each other. And, well, because I don't hit on people. I just pay them to have sex with me," he admitted. "Come on. It'll be fun."

"But why do you want to hit on me? I'm already yours. You're mine. It's so convenient," she said, closing her magazine and rolling over to grope him.

"Wasn't it great, though?" he asked. "The first time we kissed?" He kissed her. "Touched?" He slid his hand down her body. "Got naked?" He pulled her nightgown up over her head. "I love that you're mine," he explained, "But I have a little nostalgia for the sex that made you mine."

She was getting into the idea. "Okay," she agreed.

"Yeah?" he paused and looked at her. "Awesome. You have to be yourself, okay? This isn't like role playing. It's context playing."

"I understand, House."

"And don't break the illusion. It'll wreck it. You can't break." He was talking fast, excited.

"I understand."

He grinned widely at her.

"You're weird," she told him.

"I know." He sighed stupidly.

[H] [H] [H]

House was already sitting at the bar – waaaay outside of town – when Cuddy entered. She walked to the other side of the bar without looking at him. Atta girl, Cuddy. He eyed her as she slipped her coat off and perched on the bar stool. He let out an audible exhale. She was so unreal she'd even found/bought a dress he'd never seen before. As she crossed her legs, he saw the tiniest line of lace at the top of her thigh-highs peek out.

Cuddy ordered a drink and scanned the bar as she got her phone out and started looking preoccupied. She let her stare rest on him for just a half-second before moving on. House smirked. He looked around the bar and saw a half dozen other guys eyeing the same prize, more or less surreptitiously. He just watched her for a while. She scanned her messages. She texted someone.

House tried to imagine he really was seeing her for the first time. He'd notice her, of course. Every guy in the bar noticed her. He'd see that she didn't look around at everyone, already knowing that all eyes were on her. She'd always been beautiful, he'd deduce. He'd notice that she moved gracefully, whether walking across the room, crossing her legs, or searching for her phone in her purse. She'd probably be into something elegant, like yoga or dance, he'd assume. He'd notice how she looked at the little propped drink menu before ordering. She didn't do this sort of thing much, he'd decide. He'd see the pager clipped to her purse and decide she was either a doctor or a call girl. He was House, so he'd see all this in a matter of seconds.

He'd fall in love with her. At first sight.

When her drink got low he signaled the bartender over and ordered a drink for her.

"Get in line, buddy" the bartender told him. "She's already got one coming from the suit over there." House's eyes slid to a good-looking guy in an Armani suit seated five stools away from Cuddy. He was pretending to read a newspaper, but House saw him just eye-fucking the shit out of her. He narrowed his eyes.

Don't break, he reminded himself.

"Send her both," he told the bartender. He gave House a once over and laughed a little under his breath, obviously thinking he didn't stand a chance.

As the bartended took Cuddy two drinks and spoke softly to her, House almost hurt his brain trying to watch her and the other guy at the same time. He pulled an eyeball muscle. Cuddy looked across the bar at House with the hint of a worried look – wondering if he'd be bothered – but he gave one imperceptible shake of his head and a half-grin. All the more fun, he seemed to say. She raised one glass at him and then looked at the other guy and raised the other, smiling at the coincidence.

She's witty too, he thought, pretending to assess her as he would a random woman. Armani was looking at House now, though. He puffed up slightly in his seat. He stuck his jaw out a little and when House met his eyes he sneered. He made a production of slowly folding up his paper as if to say I'm in no rush, dude. You don't have a chance.

House got up to go closer to Cuddy, picking his cane up from its lean against the bar. This made Armani almost laugh out loud. Apparently, hitting on women in bars is a lot like high school. He watched as House got closer to Cuddy, though. She locked eyes with House and he nodded a greeting at her, then walked past her and began shooting pool at the table behind her. Armani eagle eyed them, but apparently took the retreat for surrender and also nodded at House, to which House replied loudly. "Hey. Nice suit!" Armani was startled a little but said "Thanks," and smoothed his coat.

House played less than a minute before the guys rose and sidled down the bar to slide onto the stool next to Cuddy. "Hi there," he said, all teeth and winks. Cuddy looked up flirtatiously from her phone before raising her head. "Hi," she answered smoothly. "Thanks for the drink."

Armani smiled wider at this encouragement. "Of course," he said. "I don't do that often" he said conspiratorially leaning in toward her. "But you're so beautiful, I haven't been myself since you came in."

Cuddy heard House clear his throat to cover a laugh.

"Wow. Well, thanks," Cuddy answered.

"David."

"Lisa." House smiled down at the table. Lisa, he thought, happy they hadn't met this way. He was in her line of vision now, at the far end of the table. She saw him watching her. David looked over his shoulder at House, then back at Cuddy. House watching them was bugging the guy a little. Cuddy watching House was bugging the guy a lot.

"What do you do, Lisa?" he asked.

"I'm a doctor," she replied. She saw House make the "kinda" hand gesture at her, holding his hand and rocking it side to side. She narrowed her eyes at him, then focused on the game, returning her attention to David.

"Oooh, a smart one," David teased. Cuddy wrinkled her nose.

"What do you do?" she asked.

"Financial analyst. I work in New York most days, but telecommute from here too."

Cuddy nodded, bored. She didn't agree to this whole outing to talk to a boring financial analyst all night. She sipped her drink.

David clearly didn't have to say much more than that to women, usually, as he seemed at a loss for how to wow her next. "So, what are you doing this weekend?" he asked.

Cuddy shrugged. "Not a lot," she answered. "I have to have dinner at my mother's Sunday." House sneered at this reminder and she had to stifle a laugh.

David laughed like she'd said something hilarious. "Mothers," he said, shaking his head.

Cuddy really wanted this guy away from her. There was no acting involved in that feeling. "Well, David, it was really nice of you to get me the drink." David nodded like he'd fixed her car or something. "And it's been nice talking to you."

"It has." He nodded, baring his teeth again.

Cuddy nodded back and gave him a tight-lipped grin. The guy couldn't take a hint. She finally just turned away from him and back to her phone.

"You wanna get outta here?" David asked.

"Ummm…" Cuddy hesitated. "Not really."

David reached out and laid his hand on the small of her back, which was bare in this new dress. House felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise.

"I think we could have a good time together," David murmured, leaning in to speak in her ear. He moved his thumb along her skin. Cuddy reached back and took his hand off her back, placing it firmly on his own knee.

"Yeah, I'm not so sure," she replied. "I'm just here to relax, okay?"

"Come on, baby," David leaned in again and put a hand on her thigh. "Don't be coy. We both know this is gonna happen." Cuddy immediately started pushing his hand off her.

"We know no such thing," she hissed. There was no game to this now. She was pissed. House walked over quickly.

"Hey, David," he growled. "Ever heard the saying, 'Leave the lady alone'?"

David looked at him and laughed. He looked at his rumpled clothes, his scruffy face and his cane and felt even more sure of himself.

"Mind your own business, prick. We're just talkin' here."

"Funny, I didn't know talking involved so much molestation," House said, stepping closer and glaring at the guy.

David stood up suddenly and shoved House back against the pool table. He stepped close to him and said through gritted teeth," Don't be a sore loser, loser. Get lost."

"Fellas," the bartender called without looking up. That was all the warning they were gonna get. Cuddy had her hands clasped at her mouth, totally worried about House. This Neanderthal was on roids or something and she didn't want this playful idea to end up in broken bones.

"She doesn't want to fuck you, David. Trust me. She wants a bigger cane." House set the end of his cane on David's foot and leaned down hard. David's face contorted in the most perfect expression of pain before he realized what was happening and hauled out and slugged House in the gut. House groaned and bent forward.

"House!" Cuddy yelled. David whirled on her.

"You know this guy?" he yelled.

House looked at her and winked, despite the wind being knocked out of him. Don't break, Cuddy.

"He, uh… He's in here a lot," she answered quickly. "He always buys me drinks." She looked at House who was smiling at her improv as he shifted his internal organs back into place. "He never talks to me," she added.

"I was waiting for you to talk to me," House replied. They smiled at each other. "I don't really hit on women very often."

"You don't say?" David sneered, reminding them that they weren't the only two people in the room.

House kept his gaze on Cuddy. "There's not many ways to do it without coming off sleazy," he explained, laughing at the fact that he knew Cuddy was disgusted by this guy. He straightened up all the way now.

"Lisa, forget this clown," David said to her, still taking House for some sort of random weirdo. "Let's go to a table." She ignored him completely, biting her lip and looking at House.

He walked over to her and leaned close to her ear. "I know this was my idea," he whispered, "But it's impossible to pretend I don't already love you." He stepped back then. "You wanna get outta here?"

Cuddy nodded. "Yeah." He took her coat and her hand.

"What the hell is this?" David yelled to no one in particular.

"I think it's called getting served? Schooled? What's the term these days?" he turned to Cuddy.

"Beginner's luck," she answered.

They left the bar and the cool night air made her shiver. She was about to start chatting to House about the whole crazy thing, forgetting the goofy scenario of the night, but House gently pushed her up against the brick wall of the bar. He cupped her face and started kissing her, tentatively at first – pulling back to look in her eyes – then more aggressively as she kissed back. Cuddy felt the cold brick against her back and House's warm body pressing close against her from the front. She slid her arms under his coat and around his body.

"I don't usually do this," she murmured when House started kissing her jaw, her chin, her neck. He still wanted to play and she'd promised him.

"Neither do I," he replied. His hand slid from her face down her shoulder and ribs to rest on her hip, pulling her closer against him then sliding over the curve of her ass.

Cuddy swallowed hard and tried to catch her breath. She made herself pretend because for some reason it was fun to be just now falling for him. He was mysterious and quirky and sexy and funny. She liked him already and what he was doing to her collarbone with his tongue was adding lust to the like.

"I have a boyfriend," she added, playful.

"He's an idiot," House whispered in her ear.

Cuddy laughed softly. "How do you know?"

"He's not with you right now." House's hand slid under her dress in the back, pressing his fingers into her body, foreshadowing what he would be able to do to her.

"Maybe he has important things to do," she said defensively, through a breathless sigh.

"I bet he's home getting stoned and whacking off," House teased. He started inching her skirt up.

"Uh, speaking of that," Cuddy interjected, clasping her hand over House's suddenly. "I think there is a homeless guy looking at us and masturbating across the street…"

House paused and looked over his shoulder, then back at Cuddy. "You're not into that?" Cuddy laughed, shaking her head. "Oh. Alright." He slung and arm around her shoulder and started guiding her to the parking lot."Bummer. That was a waste of a good hundred bucks." Cuddy started laughing harder. House looked back over his shoulder. "Too bad too… Now my friend Wilson's gotta find somewhere else to masturbate." She was wracked with that hard laughter that comes out silent. "He'll probably have to go do a costume change too." Tears were rolling down her cheeks. "Too bad he can't be like other people and just have normal familiar sex at home."

"He's a good friend," Cuddy said, through laughter.

"He's alright," House agreed.

"You must have lots of friends," she said, composing herself.

"Oh, yeeeeah. Tons. I make friends everywhere I go. Gotta beat them with sticks."

Cuddy was punchy and started laughing again. "Um, the saying is 'beat them off with a stick.'"

House looked down at her with a confused expression. "Now, how is that done, exactly? Wilson will be interested." Cuddy was still recovering from giddy, tipsy laughter as they reached the parking lot.

"Ever ride a motorcycle?" he asked her.

"Been known to on the rarest of occasions," she said. "But I actually have a car, in which you are much more likely to get laid."

"Cars are good." They walked to Cuddy's car and House walked to the passenger side as Cuddy slid in the driver's seat. The turned and faced each other.

As they smiled at each other, they both leaned in, kissing tentatively at first – They'd just met, after all. – but soon House parted Cuddy's lips with his tongue, and it was all over. He slid his hand from her face to her waist and dragged her over the emergency break to straddle him on the seat.

House slid her dress up and ran his hands along her thighs. "You're pretty fucking' hot, stranger," he murmured. Cuddy was looking down at him, her hair curtaining their faces.

"I gotta be when I'm fishin' for financial analysts. They're hard to catch."

House's hand slid down Cuddy's back and rested at the spot old Armani had felt the license to touch. "I kinda wish I'd hurt that guy more."

"Nah," Cuddy said, unbuttoning his jeans. "Night in jail. Night of anonymous stranger sex." She made a weighing motion with her hands.

"Who says a night in jail means no anonymous stranger sex?" he countered. Cuddy laughed. "In fact, I think my odds of anonymous stranger sex are actually higher if I'm in jail."

"Not this kind of sex," she said, taking his hand and sliding it under her panties. House exhaled with a hiss. He moved his fingers along Cuddy's heat and she sat up further, pushing back on his chest to give him room. House used his other hand to slide her dress off her shoulders, revealing her perfect breasts in a push-up bra. Cuddy leaned back against the dashboard and he ran his hand down the taut line of her stomach, watching the streetlights hit her parted lips as she started breathing heavy. He reached behind her, unhooking her bra. He cupped her chin and ran his thumb over her mouth. She grimaced in frustration and pushed against his hand and he knew it was time to get serious.

"Now, Cuddy," he scolded, "If I were an anonymous stranger you wouldn't be so bossy. You'd politely pretend that my half-ass fumblings were blowing your mind." House gripped her hips and squared her on his lap, then expertly teased her, circling her clit with his thumb.

"That's why anonymous stranger sex is overrated," Cuddy moaned. "Goddammit, House!" She took his hand and put it how she wanted it, which delighted him no end.

They were steaming up the windows like teenagers. House loved her like this, where he could just touch her and watch her orgasm from beginning to end. He pushed his fingers against her and realized she was right about the benefits of familiarity. He knew just what to do to this woman, to push her closer, to pull her back, to drive her insane, and to finally usher her to ecstasy. The power of it was intoxicating. He knew her moans and faces so well that their banter continued through silent gestures and moves, even during sex. Cuddy scrunched her eyebrows and he knew she was getting close and backed off a little, easing the pressure, slowing. She pouted. He smiled. She pushed with her hips, asking him for what she wanted. He gave in a little, until he saw her bite her lip. He always had to catch it immediately because if he missed it, it was all over. But he caught it this time and eased off again. Taking her back from teetering on the edge like that wasn't viewed as flirtation anymore, but torture. She made this little cry he knew so well. It was her little "please." Sometimes, like tonight, it even came out like that. That one word and he just couldn't do it to her anymore, much as he liked watching her struggle for the fall. "Please," she whispered to the windshield and House didn't change a thing, letting her ride the wave up. He pulled her body closer and kissed her breasts, running his tongue over her nipples. She arched up, bucked against him, and grabbed any car part she could reach to clench in her hands. She let out high pitch moans and sighs that he could hear in any context and would know were Cuddy's alone. And the second after she peaked he felt her hand slam against his, stopping him from making her cross from bliss into insanity.

Cuddy bent toward him and laid her head on his shoulder, whimpering. He tickled her back, kissed her forehead. He was dying to fuck her, but the problem with cars was that the rolling and slamming options were grotesquely limited. He waited politely, imagining how it would feel to push inside of her finally.

But that never happened. Well, not exactly. Cuddy kissed his neck, unbuttoned his shirt and kissed her way down his chest and belly. She slithered to the floor at his feet. House's hands had been on her face but fell away in a surrendering gesture the minute he felt her mouth around him. Her tongue circled him and she teased in the same way he had – doing exactly what she knew he loved until his breath hitched. Then she slowed, changed her movements, even leaving him completely for a moment. One hand found her hair and he had to fight the ubiquitous male urge to be a selfish prick. He thought about motorcycles and guitars to keep from pushing her head. He thought about her mouth to keep from thinking about motorcycles. It was one of those clinical insanity moments. She kept taking him so close he'd feel a groan welling up inside of him, then she'd grow leisurely, like she liked nothing more than kissing all along him for the simple sake of it, running her hands over his legs. He could hear himself. He sounded like a fucking girl the way he was whimpering. But he couldn't help it. She was torturing him and he loved hating every second of it. One whimper must have sounded particularly pitiful because she finally took pity on him. The warmth of her mouth and her hands surrounded him until he was unaware of having any other body part. He said her name, warning her he was close and when she gave a little moan of appreciation he was gone, seeing stars, not breathing, hitting his head against the seat. He pawed roughly at her hair with one hand and the other grasped at the slippery window in a futile effort to hold onto some piece of reality. His mind was blown. When his rapture had passed he stared at the smeary fog of the window with his mouth hanging open like a dog. Cuddy kissed him affectionately once more then clambered back into his lap, laying her head on his chest and smiling proudly at her own efforts and achievement.

"I know I could get that kind of sex in jail," House mumbled. Cuddy smacked him.

They lay there, panting and petting until they could manage thoughts again that weren't about mouths and hands and genitals. Cuddy sat up a little and looked at him sheepishly, to continue their game.

"I swear, I never do this kind of thing," she said, grinning.

"I dunno," House teased. "I have the feeling you've done this sort of thing at least one time before. Maybe in college or something?" He winked at her glare.

"I knew you," she said defensively.

"Mmm… kinda."

"You just barely knew me," she accused

"Oh, Cuddy," he said, pulling her closer, "You're so naïve sometimes." She looked up at him, but he had his eyes closed and a smile on his face.

"College doesn't count anyway," she said.

"Really. Why's that?"

She rose to hold his face in her hands. "You were beautiful. And you were brilliant. And you were funny. And wickedly sexy. How could I resist?"

He laughed, looking to the side a little, embarrassed by the string of compliments. "Oh yeah? I like this past tense. What am I now, I'm afraid to ask."

Cuddy kissed him lightly.

"Mine."