9:45 p.m., Tuesday, The Oak Room, TPC Jasna Polana

There was no question in House's mind that the clicking heels and sharp, exotic perfume scent that cut through the smoky air in the bar could only belong to Lisa Cuddy. Even though the club was busy for a Tuesday night, Cuddy's presence was immediately apparent, and there was no question why she was marching in his direction. No question at all.

Tonight's Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital Board of Directors meeting had probably been House's Waterloo. Between his constant jabs at Vogler and his blistering speech at the drug rep meeting it would be a close race to see which event was the proverbial last straw.

By his own estimation the board had considered his lengthy history and Vogler's pledged $100 million bucks and voted his ass off the island. Oddly enough the thought didn't bother him at all.

The clicking heels stopped, and House could sense Cuddy's presence over his left shoulder.

"It's a private club Cuddy. I'm surprised you got past the foyer, but now that you're here say what you've got to say then leave." The delivery was as flat and devoid of emotion as anything House had ever said to his boss.

The dark haired woman slid onto the bar stool to House's left and signaled the bartender. "Bring us a bottle of Cristal on his tab." With a quick nod the whiskey tender made his way to the back for the high test champagne. "On the getting in thing, it's easy when you are a member. It's the same way you got in."

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear Cuddy. You may tell me I'm fired then leave. I don't need a $550 bottle of bubbly to ease the pain that I won't be having over being deep sixed."

She reached out with her right hand and turned his head to face her. When she spoke her normal 'House' voice was suspiciously absent. Her voice was a little husky, but there was a steel bar running through it. "I'm not going to talk to the side of your head. I may put up with your bullshit at the hospital, but not here. It's not a lot of effort. Turn very slightly to your left and look at me. You might find something to look at, or at worst someone to talk with."

Allowing his head to be turned, House simply looked placidly at his inquisitor.

"House, let me give you a few words to think about: Ding, dong, the SOB is dead. Let your imagination run."

One corner of Cuddy's mouth turned up slightly as House's brow knitted up in thought.

He couldn't help himself and the question just seemed to jump into the air: "Lisa, what the hell happened?"

"For the first time in history," Cuddy laughed, "you should have been at a board meeting. Wilson goaded Vogler into an epic meltdown. The big bully did everything but chew the carpet. It was a sight, and you missed it." Then she turned deadly serious, "Wilson saved you ass tonight. He was the only one, and he saved you ass.

"Now, here's what's going to happen: you and I, Greg and Lisa, are going to sit here and kill this bottle of fabulous champagne. We sit in companionable silence and get toasted, or we can at least play like real adults who have known each other for years and sit and shoot the breeze. Your call."

The balance of the evening started slowly, but by the time Wilson tracked them down House and Cuddy were the life of the club.

As they headed out the door Cuddy pinned House to the foyer wall with a well lacquered finger.

"House my office at 8:45. Be there on time, or so help me I won't fire you. I'll send your sorry ass up the road to the med school as a lecturer. I'm sure your tenure will help get a better teaching assignment, and I will be waiting to read your published research work.

"My office, 8:45 a.m. or you will become Professor House."

He couldn't stop the involuntary shiver that ran through his body at the thought.

TBC