Title: "Singapore Sling" (1/?)
Author: Angie
Pairing: House/Cuddy
Spoilers: Up to 3x18. My take on their time together in Singapore.
Rating: NC-17 (this part is PG, I suppose)
Disclaimer: They're not mine. If they were, we'd actually get all this on the show!
A/N: This one will be a bit different than my previous pieces. First of all because it will be a multi-chapter story, something I haven't done in quite a few years. Second because it's a step away from my usual angsty stuff. Hope you'll enjoy the ride:) Huge thanks to Lil for enthusiastic encouragement and to Mary for cracking out the whip! Wouldn't be able to get through this without either of you. 3 All mistakes are completely my own.
Summary: She couldn't get away from him even when she tried.

Part 1/?

As she quickly made her way through the airport, passport and ticket in one hand, carry-on bag in the other, Lisa Cuddy felt a sense of freedom she hadn't felt in a very long time. The high heels that usually adorned her feet were packed far down in her checked suitcase, along with only a few of her power suits, probably already in the luggage compartment of the plane. Instead she wore plain white and red sneakers, a privilege generally reserved for the rare weekend off or the runs that kept her sane, and with every step she took, her feet were questioning why they weren't allowed this experience more often.

Even a simple thing like wearing jeans felt like luxury to her, which is why she always made sure she traveled in them. She loved the way they clung to her, flattering her figure but allowing her freedom of movement the way suits didn't, and making her feel young in a way suits never would. She had to admit she was at times somewhat jealous of House and his indifference to – or rather his complete disrespect of – her claims that his choice of work attire completely went against the hospital dress code. He always shot back that her own choice of clothes hardly went hand in hand with the dress code either, but she could effectively shut him up by saying she could start wearing turtle necks every day if her wardrobe bothered him that much.

She allowed a small smile to curve her lips before she mentally shook her head at where her thoughts were drifting. Even away from the hospital – away from him - he somehow always managed to sneak into her thoughts one way or another. It was disturbingly pleasant, more so than she actually cared to admit even to herself. It was also something she had long ago stopped trying to understand; certain things were better left alone.

She desperately needed this time away; she'd needed it for a long time. The past few months had taken their toll on her; unsuccessful implantations, miscarriage, House's rehab, House's trial, failed dates, and more sleepless nights than she could count. It had all piled up somewhere deep inside her until she felt as if she was constantly suffocating underneath the polished surface she presented to the rest of the world on a daily basis.

She'd been hesitant to leave the hospital behind when the opportunity of flying to Singapore for a medical conference had first appeared. It was Wilson who had ultimately convinced her to go, after first reminding her that she hadn't had more than two days off in a row in over three years, and then cleverly pointing out that if she granted House his recently demanded vacation time, he'd be away from the hospital during the same time frame, which would in turn allow her to go away without constantly having to worry about House turning her hospital upside down in her wake.

That had been the final selling point.

In reality, this conference was nothing other than a well-constructed excuse for her to get away. Two days of actual business – the reason seventy percent of her suits were still hanging neatly in her closet at home – and seven more days of hopefully nothing but relaxation. The hospital would survive without her; Wilson had repeatedly told her this, and she knew he was right, especially now that she didn't have a certain doctor to worry about.

After maneuvering her way through the airport for what seemed like an eternity, Cuddy finally reached her gate, placing herself in line with the rest of the passengers waiting to be allowed onboard. The line moved along faster than she'd expected – after all, there were benefits to flying first class – and before she knew it, she was on the plane, being greeted by a young flight attendant, who checked her ticket and passport one final time.

"Welcome onboard, Dr. Cuddy." The younger woman gave her a professional smile and pointed up the aisle of the airplane. "Your seat is 1A; first class is right up here to your left and your travel companion has already been seated. Please enjoy your flight, and don't hesitate to use the call button if you need anything."

The words 'travel companion' didn't truly register with her until she was already walking up the aisle to her seat. The familiar sound of his voice filtered through before she even reached him. She shouldn't have been surprised. In fact, this was right up his ally; she probably even should have expected it. That didn't stop her from doing what she seemed to be doing most when he was in her presence, though: she yelled at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

House turned his attention from the stewardess in front of him and looked up at her from his aisle seat. He had the audacity to greet her with fake innocence plastered all over his face, a small grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Cuddles," he exclaimed, using the nickname he knew she hated more than anything, "there you are! I thought you'd never get here! I was starting to worry you might miss the flight." He watched her with playful eyes, impressed by the way she managed to glare at him, her hands perched perfectly on her hips, while still holding on to ticket, passport and carry-on. The woman definitely had skills.

Cuddy, on the other hand, was anything but amused or impressed. "House," she said through gritted teeth. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

"I told you I needed a vacation," he said, as if that explained everything. "You authorized it, you should know."

"How does that explain you and me suddenly finding ourselves on the same plane?"

Fake innocence turned into equally fake confusion. "You said you'd prefer it if we were away from the hospital at the same time, because otherwise you wouldn't be able to keep an eye on me, and I'd inevitably get myself and your hospital into trouble," he recited her own words back to her.

"And how does that transfer into you being here?"

"Well, now we're both away from the hospital at the same time and you can keep on eye on me."

He looked so damn pleased himself she felt the sudden urge to whack him over the head. Knowing House, though, he would probably enjoy it, and she wasn't about to give him that satisfaction. Instead she briskly put her things in the overhead compartment, ignoring his eyes on her stomach as she stretched and her shirt rode up, and then climbed over his outstretched legs to her own seat by the window, smiling just a little bit when she 'accidentally' kicked him in the shin.

This was definitely not what she had planned for her time away, and yet she wasn't nearly as agitated to see him as she would've thought she'd be. That realization was even more unnerving.

"How did you get on the plane so quickly, anyway?" she asked as she plopped down next to him, the irritation in her voice slowly dissipating. "I didn't see you in the line."

He twisted in his seat to look at her, while at the same time leaning down to rub his leg where her foot had hit him. "Bum leg, remember? Some people actually seem to think that should give me some privileges," he said, rubbing a bit more for extra effect.

His words held no real accusation, though, and she didn't take them as one. "You got your damn parking space back," she shot back, and a small smile tugged at her lips. "Shut up and be happy."

"Always so bossy," he smirked. "I thought this trip was supposed to make you more relaxed."

"Yes, but someone," she stared pointedly at him, "seems determined to not make that happen." She sighed as he merely leered suggestively at her. "How did you even know which flight I'd be on?"

"Cuddy, you can't fool me," he said in that low voice that always seemed to get her. "If you really wanted to keep your travel plans a secret from me, you would've changed your password."

"You hacked into my computer again." It was more a statement than a question, and she couldn't even be bothered with giving him an incredulous look. Had she ever expected him to stay out of her personal business?

He simply shrugged and leaned back in his seat, and once again her fingers itched to wipe that satisfied grin off his face.

"Your shirt is hideously ugly, by the way," she said, throwing a quick glance at him. "I'm not showing myself in public with you wearing that thing."

"What, this?" House looked down at his shirt that was indeed sporting a rather ghastly pattern in bright colors. It was practically screaming 'tourist'. "I kinda think it brings out the color of my eyes, don't you think?" He fluttered his eyelashes at her, and she actually had to keep herself from laughing out loud. He paused for a beat, looking thoughtful. "I guess I could take it off if you really wanna see me half naked that badly, though."

She rolled her eyes at him, fastening her seatbelt. "Shut up, House."

TBC.