10.

Thirteen lay on her side, watching House as he slept. The regular expansion of his ribcage and flare of his nostrils as he breathed, the movement of his eyes behind his eyelids as he dreamed were comforting to her in a way that transcended thoughts or words. She focused her mind therefore on the passion they'd shared a mere two hours before in the muted glow of his living room.

She had just initiated a sexual relationship with her problematic, mercurial boss. And that, after she had promised herself that she would never again become involved with anyone she worked with.

So why didn't she feel bad about it?

The multiple orgasms House had given her certainly didn't raise any objections to her new found way of thinking. Instead, they'd provided her with an unfamiliar feeling of wholeness.

Remy had for many years considered herself a sexually liberated person. But she had never before experienced either the number or intensity of climaxes House had just provided.

Perhaps it had been because she always felt the need to somehow remain in control of herself, even in or maybe especially with, her sexual encounters. Remy realized she had never before allowed her body to give into the kind of wild abandon, the hedonistic freedom of being driven to the very edge of all things known and unknown. This time she had. And it was confusing and frightening and wonderful all at the same time.

House had done this for her, to her. His immediate pain had opened a wide avenue of complementary feelings and sensations that shook her body, mind and heart to the very foundation of her being. He had been so intense, so honest in his torrent of emotion that, like a great flood, she had been swept up in the overabundance of feelings leaving her no recourse but to respond in kind. Consequently her heart had freed her body to revel in the possession of his. And it had been absolutely glorious.

Her eyes widened at the sudden thought that as this was only House's first time "at bat" with her, his heretofore hidden talents in this sensual realm were genuinely remarkable. Thirteen smiled as she considered that with additional encounters or 'practice,' by becoming better acquainted with the other's body, preferences and playfulness, the sex could only get better and better.

Provided that what had just happened was not a one-time thing.

Remy pondered this possibility for a moment. For some reason, the very thought of a fleeting relationship with House gave Remy a not unfamiliar ache in her chest. Why? The two of them were consenting adults. Weren't they both simply looking to have their physical needs met? Wasn't this just a case of two lonely people who shared similar outlooks and who happened to be at the same place at the same time? So what if they were using each other to get what they both needed and wanted?

As soon as that thought crossed Remy's mind, she felt the fallacy of it. It simply wasn't true. She hadn't used House. Neither had she made love to him out of pity.

Instead they had come together as equals. While still running high on House's promise to stay with her in her final moments and his subsequent lie to the team to provide a cover story for her time in prison, Remy had found an opportunity this morning to repay him at least a little for these chivalrous overtures. Not with the sex but in her defense of him in matters involving Cuddy, his lopsided friendship with Wilson and most importantly, Remy had defended House to his harshest critic, himself. For in the same way that House had supported her, championed her, protected her, she felt an honorable calling to do the same for him.

House's reaction had been a revelation. He had been completely exposed, his fragile heart laid open for her and only her to see. And in that moment, Remy found herself drawn to him in a manner that had been both unremitting and undeniable.

She couldn't abandon him as everyone else had done. And by not leaving him, she had found a better part within herself as well.

No, she hadn't used House. And House had been too candid and raw to have even been attempting to use her. The sex between them had been an after-effect of their sympathetic encounter.

It was far too real. They both wanted this, wanted each other here and now. And as Remy continued to think about it all, the idea began to dawn on her that she wanted the here and now, she and House, not only now but to continue for some time to come.

Remy smiled to herself in profound satisfaction as she reached over and gently brushed House's face with her fingertips. Yes, they had forged a connection long before this morning. And that connection and the feelings that surfaced within one another from their shared history had this day bubbled over until nothing was hidden, nothing was safe.

The element of risk they both felt at baring their emotions with each other lent an excitement to their union. It combined with all the other feelings they were experiencing, creating a sexual charge so profound that when they finally came together, their intertwined destinies struck them both with the force of a tornado.

If sex with House was this mind-blowing without the deeper connection of a steady relationship, then what was it like when House was completely committed and in love?

Thirteen knew one thing for sure. Lisa Cuddy was a damned fool.

A sudden, sinking feeling hit her in the pit of her stomach. Cuddy. House was still under the yoke of his unresolved issues with Lisa Cuddy. He was obviously still in love with her. And he was still ravaged by her heartless break up with him.

Add to that Cuddy's recent salvo in their ongoing battle whereby she demanded House's resignation and it was highly doubtful as to whether House was willing or even ready to give Thirteen more than a one-night stand or at most, a brief fling.

Why did that thought and its connotations suddenly plague her? She'd started to question herself about what House might want, but what did she really want?

If she was entirely honest with herself, after this morning's performance, Remy certainly wanted more than this, more than one shining moment forever consigned to the sweetest of memories past.

She wanted to understand him for, like House, she too was fond of puzzles. And there was perhaps no greater puzzle that she knew of than Gregory House.

He was a fascinating individual, on so many levels. She wanted to experience his mind, his genius, his medical expertise. But she also wanted to know him on a more personal level. She wanted to delve more deeply into the mysteries within him, the ones that he so carefully guarded and only occasionally, like this morning, let slip.

She wanted to understand the strange dichotomy of this man who could in one moment, offend and anger her and then in the next, make her want to cradle his face in her hands and kiss away his fears and apprehensions as if he were a little boy. She wanted to feel his feelings. More importantly, she wanted to heal his pain, if it were at all possible.

But she knew she must tread lightly. Her motives needed to be pure. For House was not someone that should be toyed with, he was simply not stable enough. He had gone through too much, especially the last two years, to be shrugged off so easily.

Hadn't she gotten angry with Cuddy and Wilson only a few hours before on House's behalf for that very reason? Because as the two people who had known House the longest, the two people to whom he was the most loyal, had for all intents and purposes forsaken and even betrayed him?

Remy closed her eyes. The novel idea dawned on her that she was already taking the formation of their new bond quite earnestly. She wanted him, wanted all of him. Not just for a few hours or a few days. She wanted to build a more intense rapport with him. She wanted to probe more deeply into the conundrum that was House, for herself and yes, for him as well.

And she definitely wanted to have a lot more incredible sex with him.

She knew that this morning she had made him, if only for a brief moment in time, happy. She knew it because she too had felt happy. She felt grateful to House for that.

Gratitude, sympathetic connection, respect for House as a genius doctor and as a man, Remy felt a small tremor of fear at the realization that if she were not extremely careful, she could become quite disposed to be in love with him.

Behind her closed eyelids, Thirteen began to have the sneaking suspicion that she was being watched. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw House looking at her most intensely, the corners of his kissable mouth turned upward into a sly smile which she knew mirrored hers.

"House, I . . ." But her words were cut short as House closed the distance between them and enveloped her lips with his own.

Thirteen moaned with pleasure and anticipation as House slowly moved over her, covering her body in a warm, sensual House-blanket.

Some time afterward, Remy lay gasping for air as a panting, driving House let out a final groan of release and then rolled to her side. She continued to wind down, contentedly savoring the warmth of his embrace and the tender kisses he bestowed upon her neck.

The idea to say something to him was quickly put aside with the realization that all of her most recent screaming had probably made her voice too hoarse to be heard right now anyway.

But she couldn't keep herself from smiling in total satisfaction as she once more closed her eyes. He had just proved to her beyond the shadow of a doubt that their first time together hadn't been a fluke.

House really was THAT good.