A/N: I've been horrible in updating, replying, anything story-related lately. I think my muses went on strike, but our respective lawyer teams are working through it ;)! Hence, there we have it: the last chapter!

Thank you, everyone, for staying with this story and for sending me your feedback.

Previously...

"Luckily, it's a different love bug he has to worry about. Test him for toxoplasmosis. Hey! Sorry, Cuddy got to pointlessly argue my diagnosis today, so I'm not having this discussion again. Just test him and figure out for yourselves how and why toxoplasmosis matches everything."

***

"Uh-oh. Do you feel that odd tremor in the engine?"

***

"I saw a sign for a hotel a few miles back. Should be pretty close. You can call your car service to come and fix this baby, and we can wait at the hotel until they arrive."

***

"Sorry, but we can't fix your car here. We'll take it to our nearest shop and have the guys there work on it."

"We can get you a temporary replacement for a small fee...I'll have them bring it by before seven."

"I'll go check the occupancy."

***

"The car's here. And they'll have Wilson's car ready by tomorrow. Meanwhile he can use the Royce."

"God…Well, Wilson will never lend you his car again, that's for sure."

"Ah, he won't even notice. His mind's too caught up on other things."

"Too caught up to notice his car is gone?"

"Well, it will be once I tell him I spent the night with you in an off-the-road love motel…"

Chapter 10: Aftermath

Some three hours later, a noisy, environmentally unsafe car pulled into one of the best parking spaces of PPTH, and two doctors stepped out, looking quite dishevelled. They seemed to start a squabble on their way to the hospital entrance.

"Alright, House, you've got…" Cuddy checked the watch on her wrist in a tired gesture, "…twenty-two minutes to get ready for your lecture."

"Thanks, I think I'm skipping class today."

"Not if you want to keep your job, you're not," she replied with the calm of someone who surely held the upper hand.

"I have to check on my patient!"

She rolled her eyes. It had been less than twenty minutes since Cameron had called to say the patient had tested positive for toxoplasmosis and was responding well to treatment.

"You can check on him in the next twenty-one minutes."

"Slave driver," he muttered. "Is this how you treat all your men on the morning after? No wonder you don't get a lot of second dates."

They had entered the main lobby and Cuddy was just about to reply when she was cut off by a half-relieved, half-annoyed exclamation.

"Finally! I had to get a cab home and back here this morning!" Wilson made a beeline for them, an anxious expression on his face. "You were conspicuously evasive on the phone, House. Just what did you do to my car?"

"Your car's fine, Wilson, you'll get it back tomorrow."

"Wh-what? Tomorrow! What happened?" Eyes wide, he looked from House to Cuddy in confusion. "Where's the car?"

"It broke down—" Cuddy started apologetically, and was not all reassured by Wilson's shocked expression.

"Broke down? But… I'd just had it fixed two months ago…" His bafflement turned to irritation, as he turned to his friend. "That's it, House, you're not driving my car again. Just where did you take it? What did you do to it?"

"I didn't do anything," House replied calmly. "It broke down, we spent the night at a motel, auto-service will bring the car back to you tomorrow morning. Hospital pays for all the repairs, of course," he added as an afterthought.

Wilson stared, agape, for a brief moment. As the information settled, he snapped his mouth shut, swallowed dry and shook his head in disbelief.

"You spent the night at a motel?"

House flashed Cuddy a smug grin. 'Told you', he mouthed silently.

"Don't worry," he said to her out loud, "I'll make sure to use the next…eighteen-and-a-half minutes in the best possible way."

"Did Cuddy really go with you to the man's house?"

"If the rumour mill says so, who am I to argue?"

Cameron rolled her eyes at his evasiveness. She opened her mouth to add something else, wavered between wanting to know and not wanting to intrude, decided she was being snoopy and promptly snapped her mouth shut with a frustrated sigh.

Having watched the thoughts and emotions roll across her face, House smirked knowingly.

"Did you really spend the night at a motel?"

"Yeah. The supply closets on this floor were always booked."

Chase had the decency to look flustered. House just smirked.

"I know that you know that I know what you're going to ask, and you think that because you know I know it'll make it less satisfying for me to hear you say exactly what I knew you would."

Foreman just stared at him, his lips pursed in slight dissatisfaction. Then he opened his mouth, changed his mind, closed it, and turned to walk away.

Behind him, House grinned smugly. He loved it when things unfolded as he had foreseen them.

"So…"

House continued to focus intently on his gameboy, though the corners of his lips drew slightly upward at Wilson's poorly disguised curiosity.

"How…was the trip?" the oncologist finally formulated his question.

"What you're really asking," House told him, "is how was Cuddy. Which means you don't know, so she hasn't slept with you. It also means you're curious, so you're hoping she will—"

"You're insane," Wilson declared with a roll of his eyes. "And you're dodging the question, which means nothing actually happened between the two of you."

"I'm a gentleman, I don't kiss and tell," House deadpanned.

"Yeah."

A loud buzz from the gameboy signalled 'game over'.

"What I don't understand," Wilson resumed over the ensuing silence, "is why Cuddy isn't denying your not-so-subtle insinuations. It's obvious nothing happened—"

The door to his office suddenly opened.

"Dr. Wilson, I need your consult on—" Cuddy stopped as she took in the second person in the room and the expressions of the two men. She rolled her eyes as she intuited the topic of their conversation. "There's a patient I need you to see," she resumed calmly. "I sent her down for an MRI, but you can look over her file until the test is done."

"Uh, sure," he nodded quickly, "I'll…be there in a few minutes."

Cuddy glanced from him to House and back again, before nodding curtly.

"Right. Thank you." She swivelled on her heels and left the room. Two seconds later, she marched back in. "Dr. House, may I have a word with you?"

"I think the supply closet on this floor is occupied, but I know a large cubicle on the third..."

If looks could kill… Tactfully, Wilson chose to excuse himself from his own office, willing to wait outside until his friend got chewed out by the furious Dean of Medicine. No longer caring about the privacy of their discussion, Cuddy did not even wait for Wilson to close the door before crossing her arms and giving House a no-nonsense glare.

"Stop telling people we slept together," she demanded.

He idly played with one of the trinkets on top of the oncologist's desk.

"I'm not telling them anything," he shrugged. "They just assume. People always assume, it's a flaw in our genetic code."

"Then say it's not true!"

"That's not true," he deadpanned.

Sensing the none-too-subtle double entendre, Cuddy sighed in exasperation.

"House. Grow up!" she said icily, turning to leave the room. Almost as an afterthought, she looked back at his amused expression. "And stop spreading insane rumours or I'll tell everyone who thinks we slept together that you carry that big cane around to overcompensate. You know…" She wiggled her small finger with a sweet, malicious smile.

It was only after she left Wilson's office that her shoulders shook with silent laughter. Back inside, House let out a low chuckle.

Sometimes, he had to admit the unforeseen did have its merits.

-The End-