House and Maddie settled back into the limo after the performance, which, House had been pleased to note, hadn't been too painful after all. The color, dancing and spectacle kept the show moving from start to finish, so it hadn't dragged at all.

Maddie reached across and ran a finger down House's cheek.

"There's something I've been dying to do all night," she said breathily, leaning towards him.

House caught his breath, not really sure how he felt about making out in a limousine. What if the driver could hear or see?

Maddie's fingers deftly reached to his collar and loosened his tie before undoing the top button of his shirt. She then loosened the tie further, pulling the knot undone and unthreading it from his collar. She threw the tie on the floor of the car.

"There. That's better. It's been killing me watching you pull at that all night as if it was strangling you. I've almost felt like I was the one being choked." Maddie was relieved to see House somewhat back to the way he should be. Putting him in a tie was like putting a collar on a wild animal: unnecessary and cruel.

House laughed. "I'm not really a tie person," he said, looking at the limp shape lying on the floor. "But Wilson bought me that one and I have a feeling it was pretty expensive."

"OK, so we won't leave it in the car," Maddie said. "In fact, maybe we can think of some interesting things to do with it once we get home?" She gave him a suggestive wink.


In the apartment, Maddie went into the kitchen to pour them both a drink, while House went to the bathroom. When emerged back into the lounge, Maddie was sitting on a wooden kitchen chair she'd moved next to the piano, a glass of whisky in each hand. She reached out to hand him one and he took it gratefully.

She'd removed the pants and scarf of her outfit, leaving just the tunic top. The top reached down to above her knees, but its side splits went to the top of her hip bones. Each time she moved, more of her legs were revealed and the lacy edges of her underwear peeked through.

House's red tie was draped around her neck.

She rose slowly from the chair, and moved towards him, draining her glass and indicating that he should do the same.

House gulped the liquid, warmth immediately spreading down his throat. The sensations in his mouth were soon amplified by the feeling of Maddie's tongue invading his lips.

While kissing him, Maddie took the glass out of his hand, moving away briefly to set both down on the coffee table. She moved back and, pushing lightly on his chest, encouraged him to sit down. She unbuttoned his shirt, sliding the sleeves down his arms, revealing his bare chest.

House sat on the chair, pulling her head down to him to continue their kiss. He deepened it, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in imitation of what his body wanted to do to her.

Maddie pulled back and artfully drew the silk tie around her neck and into her hands. Moving to the back of the chair, she caressed his shoulders and arms from behind, pulling them to her until she could get his wrists close together. Quickly she threaded the fabric through the slats of the chair and around his wrists, tying a firm knot.

House tried to pull free, but discovered he was comfortably but definitely restrained. He started to feel uneasy.

"Uh, Maddie," he started.

"Shhhh. I'll stop whenever you want me to." Maddie moved around to face him again, leaning down to unbuckle his belt and unthread it from his pants. Once she had the belt free, she started trailing it over his chest, flicking it lightly.

House again struggled against the bonds.

"Um, stop," he said, when he discovered he was still unable to free himself, an edge of panic in his voice. Maddie paused, looking at him uncertainly.

"Maddie, I don't do pain. If that's what you've got planned, I mean." Although he was keeping a pretence of playfulness, his voice was flat, lacking his normal cocky confidence. "I don't get off on pain. I wish I did," he snorted ruefully. "But I've got enough of it in my life without wanting someone to do it to me deliberately."

Maddie looked closely into his eyes. She could see he was trying hard to keep things light but beneath the surface was a very clear emotion that Maddie was shocked to recognise: fear.

House tried to swallow a rapidly rising swell of nausea. When he was a child a number of the 'punishments' his father had designed for him had involved him being trapped in some way: locked in the garage overnight, shut in a cupboard for an afternoon, weighed down in a bath full of ice. As a result – not that he'd admit it – he had a keen case of claustrophobia. Any sense of feeling trapped did nothing but provoke a childhood sense of fear, like a nightmare slowly coming to life.

The realisation struck her as if physical: of course he was scared of pain. He spent his life taking those stupid pills and drinking like a fish to numb the pain he was already in. But there was something more, something desperate in his eyes.

She moved into him, the belt falling from her hands to land with a dull thud on the floor. She kissed him softly on the forehead, brushing her hand through his hair gently.

"I won't hurt you," she whispered, wondering if she could keep that promise, wondering if he could say the same to her. She leaned down and untied him, rubbing his wrists with her hands. She recognised that fear, she'd seen it in her own reflection. House was the only person who she'd let near her in years. Physical pain or emotional pain, she was terrified of someone hurting her – and petrified about what she might do to someone who did.

House looked at her, not sure if he could continue the sex play. Something had just happened, he'd shared something he hadn't meant to and so, he thought, had she.

Maddie stood up in front of him and pulled her tunic off, revealing her burgundy red lace bra and thong. House looked at her carefully, trying to read what she was thinking. For the first time he noticed the faint line of a surgical scar across her belly. He reached out and traced it with a finger, raising an eyebrow in silent question. From its position it could have been a number of things, stomach, spleen, pancreas.

"A reminder of some pain of my own," she said quietly in response.

House nodded and knew that despite his discomfort, he still wanted to take her into his bedroom and make her cry out his name.

Maddie held out a hand to help him up and wrapped an arm around him as they walked to the bedroom, unobtrusively acting as his support, his cane left abandoned in the lounge. Once there, she watched as he removed the rest of his clothes and her own until they were stretched out on the bed next to each other, skin on skin, mouths exploring hotly.

Even with the failed foreplay both of them were in no desire to wait. He rolled her on her back, pushing into her, his movements rough and quick. Maddie groaned, at first at the discomfort, but then at the pleasure as her body adjusted to him. She ground her pelvis into him, his almost suffocating weight on her a welcome burden.

House had stopped thinking clearly, but he knew in some part of his mind that he was being rough, inconsiderate. He also knew that was what they both wanted, needed, and he continued his urgent thrusting.

Maddie wrapped her legs around him, pushing her heels into the back of his legs, deepening the penetration, urging him on, her mouth not leaving his for a moment. She could feel the roughness of his scar against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and the slight tremble in his right leg as it struggled to support his movement.

The weight of his body on her, his frantic movements, his tongue in her mouth matching his thrusts… Maddie shuddered and came, jerking into him, gasping into his mouth. The contractions of her muscles around him was the final push he needed and House groaned loudly, releasing himself into her, feeling the hot fluid overflowing even as he continued to thrust.

He collapsed on top of her, his full weight on her body, face buried in her neck. Maddie reached both arms around to hug him even tighter to her, as if trying to merge their bodies into one. They lay still and panting, House still twitching inside her as his orgasm subsided.

Finally Maddie's lungs started protesting at the struggle to expand with his weight on her ribs and she released him reluctantly. He rolled onto his back without looking at her.

Maddie laughed softly, uncertain what had just happened.

"So, how was it for you?" she joked, feebly, pulling the bedcovers back over them and lying back.

House didn't answer, just sought out her hand under the quilt. He grabbed it tightly in his and closed his eyes, not sure what to say to her. Suddenly he found himself confessing something, the urge to tell her strong but inexplicable.

"My dad…" he began, taking in a deep breath before continuing.

"Shhh," said Maddie. "I know." And she did. She realised as soon as he'd started to speak that she'd known all along. She wondered fleetingly whether that was what had drawn them together in the first place.

They both lay still and quiet, hands clasped together like children afraid of the dark.


Later that night, Maddie woke from a panicky nightmare. The silence was deep, so she guessed it must be the early hours of the morning. House was sleeping soundly next to her.

The nightmare threads were still with her, making it impossible for her to fall back to sleep straight away. She got up quietly, doing her best not to disturb him, closing the bedroom door softly and padding down to the lounge.

She turned on a lamp and curled up on the sofa trying to recall the dream. She'd often found that recalling the details of nightmares somehow robbed them of their power, gave her a way to mock the terrifying images her own brain produced.

In the dream she'd been inside a house, one she didn't recognise. Someone was trying to get inside and she had to stop them, running from one door to the next to lock it. But she didn't know where all the doors were, so she had started getting frightened that she had missed one. And, like some kind of twisted video game, each time she managed to get to a door she had less time to get to the next one before the evil what-ever-it-was got inside.

She remembered a strange detail: the house had been filled with ferns. Different kinds of ferns, but at times they were so thick and bushy that she had trouble getting through them to find the doors she had to lock. Maddie smiled at herself, thinking how ridiculous it was to have dreamt about malevolent ferns.

The bottle of whisky and their two glasses from earlier in the night were still on the coffee table. Maddie poured herself a shot, shuddering a little as it went down.

She wondered whether her dream had any relationship to recent events in her life. If there was a link she couldn't see it. Nightmares about her father had stopped in her mid-twenties and, until the day she'd found out he'd died, he was a long-gone, shadowy figure in her history. Now, at nearly forty years old, she'd spent more of her life away from him than with him. Her reaction over the past couple of weeks had surprised her – she had been positive all of the 'processing' of her childhood was well behind her.

Fortified by both the whisky and the thought of the ridiculous evil plants, she returned to the bedroom and slipped into bed quietly, hugging herself to warm up. Sleep proved elusive for a while longer. In the end, she focussed on the sound of House's breathing, trying to match her own breaths to his. It must have worked, because she didn't remember anything more until morning.