Title: Silent Nights
Author: frickangel - frickangel(dot)livejournal(dot)com
Fandom: House
Rating: G
Summary: It's only polite to thank a friend who has helped. OneShot. House/Cuddy
Pairing: House/Cuddy
Characters: Cuddy and Wilson.
Timeline: Post 'Act Your Age'
A/N: -
Warning: Un-beta'd
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't know, and don't I wish.

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The night was always silent for her. Sometimes there was the soft crackling of a warm fire on those white winter evenings, or even the gentle beats of her favourite CD spinning in her player. Though tonight, things were different, because there was no fire burning in her fireplace, nor any music playing. Only the insistent ringing of her phone disrupted the stillness, urging her to hasten the drying of her hair just as she stepped out of the shower.

"Hello?" a tinge of annoyance had laced her voice though it wasn't intentional. Carefully towelling her damp hair, she waited patiently for an answer.

"It's me," he replied so simply.

"Oh!" the tone of her voice changed completely realising who it was on the other side. Setting the towel on a chair as she cradled the cordless phone between her ear and her shoulder, she tied her robe more securely around her waist. "Sorry, I was…" she thought for a moment before continuing, "…just washing some dishes."

"Must be a huge pile of them."

"Ha. Ha." Comfortably in her bedroom chair now, she had her full attention on the conversation, "Leave the sarcasm to House. Besides, I think I've reached my limit for the day, anymore and I might just get a stroke."

"Right," he cleared his throat and she could pick up vague background noises of papers being shuffled around. Somehow, she had expected this sort of workaholics from him more than herself. "So how did it go?"

"The plan?"

"What else is there?"

"Just one question," she played with the loose thread on her robe, "how did you know those tickets weren't really from a patient?"

A small pause and even more paper shuffling before he spoke again, "You're talking about House here. How many patients would show that much gratitude to him?"

She shrugged, "Good point."

"Besides, I make a point to know most of his patients' background lately, and none of them were anywhere near an income bracket that could pay for tickets like those."

Forming a frown, she leaned forward and was slightly troubled by this new revelation, "Since when do you track his patient list?"

"After the whole Tritter case?" he explained with slight amount of—what she could assume was—embarrassment. "I make sure he doesn't go near anyone who's capable of freezing bank accounts and issuing arrest warrants."

Now, why didn't she think of that? "Uh huh…"

"I'd rather not play Judas again if you don't mind. Thirty pieces of silver doesn't have as much value as it did 2000 years ago."

"I'll remember that," smiling at his clarification, she leaned back against the chair again. "He asked me out to a play."

"He did?"

"Yeah, though you don't sound so surprised about it."

He snorted—actually snorted, "You should've seen the way he reacted when I said I had sex with you. I'd be surprised if he didn't make his move by now."

Wincing at the idea of him actually having sex with her, she shook her head to rid herself of the mental image, "I was talking about the play. He asked me out to a play."

"Oh. That," awkward silence filled the air. "The play part is a surprise. But the point is…" he sighed, sounding satisfied with himself, "…is that it worked."

Chuckling at herself and at the whole plot, she pushed a wet curl behind her ear, "True."

"Then I guess my work is done. I should probably lead my life now and stop trying to play cupid."

"Wait," she called out, interrupting him from ending the conversation.

"Yeah?"

There were so many things to say about this and so many ways to show gratitude. In the end, she settled for the simplest and most sincere method, "Thank you, Wilson." It was odd that even after being friends for so long, they'd still call each other by their last names. Though then again, she guessed it was their way of staying true friends.

"Well, now you owe me one," he allowed those words to settle with her while he laughed himself. "Night."

"Night," she replied with a grin, and thumbed the 'end' button.

Lying comfortable in her seat, she eventually watched the world pass by outside her window. Slowly, her thoughts drifted to tomorrow night, the play, and how much concealer she was going to need the day after that.

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END

Thanks for reading.
-Cheers
Jo