This is pre-season four and pre-season three finale. Please enjoy, and thank you for reading! :D

Disclaimer: Do not own House.

Of Bars and Glimpses

Lisa Cuddy sank down onto the stool in front of the bar. She had had a long day. A patient had died on Foreman and she had had to spend most of the day trying to convince him to treat more people, to come back to work…to live in general. And with House "helping" by taking every chance he got and then some to remind Foreman of his incident, it had not been easy. "Haunted While the Minutes Drag" by Collide played softly in the background, punctuated by the clanking of classes and the chattering of the other patrons of the bar. Cuddy sighed and tapped on the bar. Time to accomplish what she came here for--- to get buzzed.

"One dry martini, please." Cuddy swiveled in her chair to survey the other bar members. It was filled with the usual patrons; that is, teenagers out to party, people like her who wanted to kill the work day and of course, people like…

"Sir? Sir, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to cut you off. This is way too many."

"I'll tell you when I've had too many, sir. I am a doctor." Cuddy squeezed her eyes shut tight, hoping with all her might she hadn't just heard what she thought she'd heard. But no, that heavy drunken sarcasm could only have been achieved by one person she knew.

With a heavy sigh, she stood up and walked over to the table behind and to the left of her. Seated there was none other than Gregory House, as drunk as she'd ever seen him. Several scotch shots sat empty in front of him and he had a bemused expression on his face as he happily tortured the owner of the bar. House waved his cane, coming dangerously close to whacking the bar owner in the head. "I…" He announced, suddenly looking up into Cuddy's face. "…am quite severely drunk."

A smile twitched to Cuddy's lips despite her best efforts. House got…well, interesting when he was drunk. She turned to the bar owner. "How many has he had?"

The bar owner raised an eyebrow. "Do you know this man?"

Cuddy sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. Quite well. How many has he had?"

The bar owner relaxed. Good. Here was someone who could take him home. There would be no lawsuits tonight. "Uh, a fifth of scotch. I tell ya lady, I have never seen anyone who could down this much scotch and not pass out. 'Specialy a lightweight like him."

Cuddy shook her head. "Ok." She tugged House's cane from his grip and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, House, let's get you home."

House took the cane from her and began stumbling towards the door. "Oh…" He paused and twisted to look at Cuddy. "I have no money, but I believe this kind woman will pay my bill." And with a wicked smile, he stumbled outside. Cuddy clenched her fists, taking several deep breaths. Even drunk, he managed to piss her off. She pulled out her wallet, handed the bar owner several bills, and followed House out the door. She found him puking in a patch of flowers next to the door.

"Oh, House…" Cuddy wrinkled her nose. Well, at least he didn't throw up in her car. "Come on." She gripped his arm and helped him towards her car. "Here…" She opened the back door. "Lay down in the back."

"Ooo…" House clambered into the back seat, wincing as he bumped his bad leg. "Am I indulging one of your fantasies, Cuddles? I always knew you'd come around, what with the way you dress and all, I figured it was only a matter of time before…" Bam! Cuddy slammed the door, shaking her head. She was going to have to take him to her house. She didn't think she could find House's house in the dark.

She got into the driver's seat and started the car. "Hey, Cuddy?" Cuddy glanced in her rearview mirror.

"Yeah, House?"

Was it just her, or did House look… a little embarrassed? "Thanks."

Cuddy smiled. "Sure."

House frowned, as though he realized he had said something nice. He frantically searched his mind for something sarcastic to say and came up with…nothing. He sighed grumpily. "Insert something sarcastic here." He grumbled. "I'm too drunk to think."

Cuddy grinned to herself. "Ok, House."

House slumped backwards, his cane dropping to the floor of the car. He was out in seconds. Around ten minutes later, Cuddy pulled into her driveway. She shut off her car and slid out, opening the back door.

"House?" House mumbled something and rolled over. "House! Wake up!"

House sat up, an annoyed sleepy look on his face. "What could possibly be so important?" he grouched.

Cuddy stuck out her hand. "Come on."

House examined it curiously, as though he'd never seen a hand before. "What?"

Cuddy sighed. "Give me your hand. We're here."

"I knew that." House made a face and took her hand. She pulled him out of the car. House stumbled, falling forward into her. Cuddy staggered back as she supported House's full weight. She scrabbled for and finally found his cane, handing it to him.

After much stumbling and insistence from House that he could do it himself, they finally got into Cuddy's house. Cuddy threw her keys on the kitchen table and ripped off her coat. House was still standing in the doorway. "This…is not my house." He muttered, examining the wall with interest.

"Nope. Come on." Cuddy reached for his arm and paused, as though asking permission. When no sharp retort came, she grasped his arm and pulled him into the bedroom. She had decided to let House have the bed. It was more comfortable for his leg. She pointed. "Sit." House sat. Cuddy was surprised by his dog-like obedience. "Take off your shoes and go to sleep."

House blinked up at her. "Why…are you doing this?" he slurred, his blue eyes already clouded with the beginnings of sleep.

Cuddy pondered her answer for a brief second. Ah, what the hell. He wasn't going to remember anything the next morning anyway. "Because I care about you, House, whether you like it or not." And with that, she flicked off the lights and closed the door.

House awoke to pain in his leg and pain in his head. He recognized the signs of an intense hangover. He rolled over, pulling the comforter tighter around his shoulders and burying his face deeper into the golden pillows, hoping the pain would go away. Wait…golden pillows? House sat bolt upright, much to the chagrin of his head, and stared wildly around the room. This was not his house. Where the hell was he?

He flipped the covers off and noticed he was wearing the same thing he had worn yesterday. His shoes and jacket were neatly folded and stacked against the wall. He glanced at the bedside table. Nine thirty. Hello…what was this? House picked up the framed picture sitting behind the clock. It was a picture of him and Cuddy. He was smirking and she had an exasperated look on her face. What the hell?

House grabbed his cane, which was leaning against the bedside table and opened the door. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted from the kitchen along with the radio, which was turned down. He made his way down the hall, determined to solve this new mystery. He peeked around the wall into the kitchen. Lisa Cuddy stood in front of the stove, dressed in nothing but an extremely oversized lavender T-shirt. Her dark hair had been loosely pulled up into a clip and she was humming along with the song that issued from the little radio sitting on the counter next to her. She had never looked more beautiful.

House withdrew his head and frowned. Ok, so he was at Cuddy's house. Mystery One. Solved. Why… He looked across the hall and into the living room. He saw with a pang that a bed was made up on the couch. She slept on the couch? Guilt washed over him. Wait…House shook his head. Guilt? What was the matter with him? And why did Cuddy have a picture of the two of them on her bedside table? Ouch. Thinking made his head hurt. House made a decision and stumped into the kitchen. "What the hell am I doing here?"

Cuddy didn't bother to turn around. "Morning, House. I'll bet your head hurts like hell. Sausage or bacon or both?"

"I said," House sounded annoyed. "What the hell am I doing here?"

Cuddy glanced over her shoulder. House looked confused, but was hiding it very well beneath his usual gruff exterior. "You almost killed yourself with scotch last night and I didn't think I could find your house in the dark. Sausage, bacon, or both?"

House opened and closed his mouth several times. "Both."

There was silence for a few minutes, until House broke it abruptly. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Help me."

Cuddy glanced at him, the bacon hissing in the pan in front of her. "Because…"

House blinked. Through the pounding in his head, everything suddenly came rushing back to him. The bar, Cuddy's car, her bed, the look on her face as she said, "Because I care about you, House, whether you like it or not."

He suddenly realized he hadn't heard a word that Cuddy had just said. "Uh."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. What she neglected to tell House was that after he had passed out, she had gone back into her room to get her pajamas. House's face, so usually well guarded, was calm and peaceful, all the stress of daily like washed out of it. It was a glimpse of House she'd never seen before and knew that she'd always treasure. She plonked a plate in front of House, who, for some reason, was refusing to meet her gaze. Instead, he wrinkled his nose at the food and said, "What is this? I thought you were making eggs."

Cuddy sighed. Same old House "Just eat it. I'm going to go get dressed."

House watched his boss leave the room with a pang of regret. Now there was the Lisa Cuddy most people never saw, the Lisa Cuddy most people never even tried to see. The saw the shielded Lisa Cuddy, the I'm-your-boss-this-is-MY-hospital-and-don't-you-forget-it Lisa Cuddy. The unguarded Lisa was a glimpse of his boss that he'd probably always treasure. Admit it? Ha! Never, but treasure to himself when no one else was around? Yeah, he thought he could do that. House picked up the fork and stabbed an egg. Hey…these were pretty good.

FIN.

I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot... reviews appreciated. :D

Love

Allie