For House the weekend didn't exactly fly by. Wilson was at an oncology conference in Maryland and he wished he hadn't turned him down to take the trip. All the free time that he normally enjoyed was being interrupted by Cuddy. He had tried watching TV, but he couldn't stop thinking about how she had smelled. He recalled his nose filling with the scent of lavender and toasted coconut as he buried his head into her neck. It had been so light, fresh and intoxicating. He had tried to play the piano, but he was so distracted that he kept missing notes to songs that he could normally play with his eyes closed. Saturday night she had visited him in his dream again. In it she had knocked on his door waking him in middle of the night. After he had let her in, without speaking she took off her coat to reveal a lacey black teddy and after that the two of them had screwed like rabbits all over his apartment until he woke up Sunday morning with a pup tent in his pants. He felt like he was going through withdrawal either from her, her body or the attention she gave him. It'd been days since he'd had a row with her and that left him feeling pent up. He'd put on his favorite porn that evening hoping to relieve a bit of stress. After the first 20 or so minutes he realized it wasn't going to happen, he kept being distracted by his self analyzing thoughts. He nearly smacked himself, he couldn't get off and he was fantasizing about smells, was he finally going mad? That's when he knew enough was enough; someone had to put a stop to this.

Monday morning Cuddy entered her office and caught sight of a piece of paper folded half way and propped up on her desk. Curious she looked at both sides before picking it up. They were blank. She could see a shadow of something hidden between them. She picked it up and turned it over. Taped to the inside was a condom with a note. Beneath it scrolled in an all too familiar handwriting it simply said Seconds? It was signed Da Man. Under the folded paper there was a key on a ring with a very large flat key chain. The key chain was white and after further inspection it appeared to have the number 69 inscribed on it. She smiled and laughed when she realized it was an old motel room key.

On Tuesday she walked in and noticed several large clear Tupperware containers sitting on her desk. Each had some substance of a different color in it. As she moved closer she realized there was also an object in each of them. When she brought her face eye level with the one containing the yellow substance she realized it was Jello and looking closer that suspended in the middle was her phone receiver. Looking in the others she found her stapler, her tape dispenser, her address book and in the last one a dildo. Taped to the outside of the red Jello container with the enormous suspended dildo was a note written in the same handwriting as the day before. This one is in case you miss me. Signed Da Man.

On Wednesday she had been late coming in due to a breakfast meeting and was hurrying to make it back in time to meet with two very important potential donors. She caught a glimpse of bright yellow through the glass doors as she pushed through them. She stopped suddenly entering the office stunned by the vast array of post-its covering every square inch of her desk and everything on it. Each with a word written on it in a very familiar handwritting. She scanned them reading, Ta-tas, hooters, boobs, fun bags ,bo-bos, ba donk a donk, lumps, booty, cha-chas, a$$, trunk…each one a euphemism for her breasts or bottom. She panicked; the donors were due to arrive in ten minutes. She went into a frenzy yanking them off and shoving them in her trash can. When she had finally managed to clear the area her trash can looked like a post-it explosion. She was barely able to hide it beneath her desk when she saw the potential donors hovering just outside. Her pitch had been flawless and it was going well, until she opened her desk drawer and almost fell out of her chair reading, Snatch, twt, p-ssy, hoo hoo, bajingo, Coochie, Muff, poon tang , Pink Taco, kitty, poo-nanny…..

By Thursday she braced herself before entering her office. But when she opened the door she found her desk exactly as she had left it the night before. She actually breathed a sigh of relief. She went about putting her things away and finally sat down opening the desk drawer for a pen. It was light and slid open easier than it should have. She reached inside feeling for a pen only to have her hand meet air. She looked down to find an empty drawer with a collage of House's smiling mug taped to the bottom of every inch of the drawer. It would have been funny had it not been kind of disturbing and creepy to have that many smiling House's staring back at her. She spent a good portion of her morning scraping the taped pictures from the drawer. It was mid morning when she was finally able to get to work. She booted up the computer and burst out into hysterical laughter at the image that greeted her. Her desktop background had been replaced with a pin-up playgirl model in a revealing pose with House's face photo shopped in.

On Friday she opened the door to her office prepared for anything. But again she found everything as she had left it. She went straight for the desk drawer. Again nothing unusual, just pens and office supplies. She turned on the computer, looked under the desk and searched the entire room only to find everything in its place and as it should be. She was unnerved. By her afternoon board meeting she figured he had finally given up. At 3pm she strode into the conference room where 10 serious faces looked up at her waiting for her to begin. She flicked off the lights, pulled down the projection screen and quickly began her monthly budget projection. She flipped through the power point and gave summaries of department figures and cut backs. She was almost done and hit the remote continuing to explain as the last slide appeared. She stopped when all the faces looking back appeared stunned and a few members began to stifle laughter. She turned around and her mouth flew open. The last slide had been replaced with a very sexy leather and chain clad dominatrix Cuddy brandishing a whip. In front of her bent over a desk was a bond and gagged man wearing a suit and tie with his pants around his ankles and his bear bottom in a spanking position.

Back to the previous Monday.

On Monday morning House waited patiently at his desk for her reaction. He was so excited with anticipation that he felt like a kid opening a present on Christmas morning. He tried to busy himself with a medical journal but he couldn't help checking his watch every few minutes. By 9am he was sure she'd already seen it. By 10am he was left feeling like a deflated balloon. He'd hoped to break the ice and get some laughter out of her, but hell he'd settle for her yelling at the moment. In some small way though he had hoped she would take it some what seriously. Some part of him wanted her to come into his office beaming with excitement, throwing her arms around him and smothering him with passionate kisses. He didn't really expect that though. But no reaction left him worried that maybe she was angry with him or even hurt that he had taken advantage of her. If she was he just wished she would get it over with and come kicking and screaming at him calling him the jerk that he is. That he could understand. He didn't know what to do, or how to make it up to her. If he were Wilson he would probably buy her flowers and apologize profusely groveling at her feet but he wasn't Wilson, he didn't do apologies and flowers really weren't his thing and cripples don't grovel, not that he would anyway.

He was determined to get a reaction and he didn't care what kind so Tuesday's surprise called for a little more creativity. But again he was left with nothing. He was beginning to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that maybe he had permanently damaged the friendship that they did have.

Wednesday he knew she had a breakfast meeting and he knew she had an appointment pitching the new oncology expansion. He decided to use both to his advantage and surely she would have to go off on him. But yet again he was not only disappointed at his efforts but wondering if she would ever speak to him again. He spent the better part of the evening with his vicodin, a bottle of scotch and a digital camera.

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It was Thursday and he was lying on Wilson's sofa somewhere between the waking and the unconscious world. He was listening to Wilson drone on over the phone about some new Cancer med. Probably to a drug rep. He stared at the ceiling listening to Wilson say something about side effects and vomiting. He closed his eyes, listening as Wilson's conversation drifted farther and farther away.

Cuddy was just starting to take her top off when Wilson shouted, "HOUSE." And then he was back in Wilson's office staring up at the ceiling tiles.

"Do you have any respect for a man's wet dreams, Carmen Elecktra was just telling me how big my…"

"Don't you have a case?" Wilson looked irritated.

"Nope."

"You haven't had a case in over a week. I know because you've spent most of that time in my office or bugging me while I'm with patients. Is Cuddy on vacation or something?"

"Nope, I'm on strike." He said closing his eyes again determined to see her round perky nipples again before the afternoon was over.

"You do realize that you have to have something to be on strike from right."

He ignored him, trying to drown out his annoying sarcastic tone.

"You'd also have to have a cause for strike."

"I do, I'm protecting my right to RESPECT in the work place." He said eyes still shut.

"Respect?" Wilson snorted at the idea of anyone giving House respect.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to face Wilson, "Red-headed English Speaking Prostitutes with Exceptionally Colossal T!ts, wait that would be RHESPECT or RESPWECT. Or no. Whatever!" he said waving off his futile attempt at a joke.

"Whatever you've done to get on Cuddy's good side isn't going to last you know."

He sat thinking if only Wilson knew what side of her he had been on, or rather in, he wouldn't be lecturing him about work; he would be hammering him for all the details and analyzing his every Cuddy thought and interaction.

"HOUSE," Wilson yelled again. He was brought back from his thoughts, "You can't hang out in here. I've got work to do and patients to see."

"Party pooper." He groaned and picked himself up giving Wilson a glare all the way out the door.

He was thoroughly irritated and beyond frustrated by Cuddy's lack of a reaction and now even more so by Wilson's overly eager agenda to actually work. He limped back to his office, deciding that whatever he did tomorrow he was determined would either provoke her or get him fired.

Friday afternoon the team sat around the conference table. Each busying themselves and enjoying their downtime, Taub was reading an article on a new type of implant for breast augmentation; Peyton and Kutner sat across from him and with their heads together working a crossword while Foreman sat at the end of table taking the down time to catch up on House's charting. House sat at the desk in the conference room with his feet propped up, listening to his ipod with all his of attention focused on Call of Duty 4 on his PSP. He had just knifed an enemy soldier from behind when he saw Cuddy bursting into the conference room. She didn't look happy, a big grin spread across his face. She turned to the team, waved her hand towards the hall and all them scurried out of the room like scolded puppies with their tales between their legs. He caught a glimpse of sympathy from Kutner on his way out. She waited until they had all left and the door closed, then she turned and marched straight up to the desk. Her mouth started moving frantically and her hands started moving in all directions, waving in the air. She looked like her head was going to start spinning any second and it was rather interesting watching it to the beat of Aerosmith blarring in his ear. She slammed her fist down and gave him a dirty look. The board must have really let her have it, she looked awful. She was white as a sheet and clammy, her eyes were puffy and she looked tired. She looked like she had just run a marathon coming in last place.

His thoughts were interrupted when she reached across the desk and yanked the headphones out of his ears.

"What the hell is wrong with you, are you trying to get us all fired?" He was glad he didn't hear the first part of her rant; because now she looked like she was starting to run out of steam. She exhaled loudly and put her hand to the bridge of her nose, probably indicating she was getting a tension headache.

"Ohh don't get all excited, it's not like those old suits don't already have that image in their head when they think of you. Besides I'm sure they enjoyed having something more interesting than your lopsided chest to stare at during those boring presentations." He snarked calmly taking a sip of coffee and returning the cup to the desk.

"You're lucky that most of them have a sense of humor."

"Really, didn't think they had it in them. You really look like sh-t." He said eying her up and down.

"I was thinking of you, does it show?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Got yourself all worked up huh. Well I know where you can get the real thing."

She managed a half hearted smile.

"There's an empty janitor closet down the hall and guess who has the key, and it's not the janitor." He said tilting his head in that direction.

"You're team is in the clinic, where they'll stay for the remainder of the day and everyday starting Monday until you get a case. You will also be in the clinic starting tomorrow."

"Saturday." He whined, "Can't you just break out the chains and whip and make my punishment interesting."

She smiled again, "The holiday is over." She turned to leave.

Just before she exited he called out, "Can I get the motel key back, that was a souvenir."

She looked over her shoulder and laughed as she walked through the door.