Chapter 10.

At last, the Dean of Medicine managed to reach her office. It's been years since she had such a busy morning. Everyone wanted something. Some of the requests were so absurd that the woman had to check whether her boyfriend hadn't put at her back a sticker saying The sexiest miracle worker in Princeton. As well as she knew him, he was capable of doing as much.

She turned the key in the lock and walked inside. The woman's attention was drawn to an unexpected guest who was resting at the couch. She put the papers at her desk and approached the lying figure.

"House, get up," ordered Cuddy. The diagnostician was fast asleep.

"House!" She repeated twice as loud. The man jumped up, startled. "Could you please explain to me why are you sleeping in my locked office?"

"There's nothing to explain," he replied with a yawn. "It's all your fault. Because of you, I couldn't sleep at night."

Cuddy smiled, sitting at the armrest.

"Since we've already touched the subject…" she begun. "As you probably remember, the conference that is very important to me starts tomorrow morning. I'll give you a week off clinic duty for two days without sex."

"Are you kidding me?" The man looked astonished. "Since we're sharing a room, it would be a waste not to put it to good use."

"We're having separate rooms," she corrected him. "Before you add anything, all the costs are on the hospital's bill."

"Why do you even ask?" he wondered.

"I've already told you. I care about this conference. I'm having a speech, I need to be well-rested."

"Three weeks," he started to negotiate.

"Two," she said. "And not a day more."

"Deal."

House got up from the couch and headed to the exit. Before leaving, he added,

"In that case, I'll take Wilson with me. Getting him drunk isn't as funny as making out with you, but I won't be picky."

"It's sooo boring!" House couldn't refrain from criticizing.

"Thank you for waiting with your remarks until the break," Cuddy praised his boyfriend.

"Although, you could refrain from asking the author of the lecture about how drunk he was when he was choosing the subject," said Wilson.

"It's not my fault that the guy talked for almost two hours about the boils on his granny's butt."

"Yeah…" the oncologist sighed out. "Who would have expected a lecture about skin diseases given by a dermatologist?"

The three doctors headed to the main hall, where the organizers served hot drinks and cakes. They sat at one of the tables.

"Do I really need to sit through all the speeches?" House didn't look forward to listening to three more idiots.

"Of course you don't," replied Cuddy. "All I said was, I'd feel much better having you around."

The diagnostician sighed deeply. He despised lectures. This was the main reason why not many university professors knew he attended their classes, but also why he hadn't attended any conferences in the last years. His intuition told him, though, that his girl would be pissed if he stayed in the hotel room. After giving it some thought, House figured that he could try to sleep when sitting up.

"Okay," said the man after a moment.

"Love inspires us to greatness," commented Wilson.

"Shut up," retorted House.

"Look, boys!" Cuddy drew their attention to the timetable. "This evening, there is an integration party, and we're all invited. Don't you think we should go?"

"Sure, why not," answered House, ignoring Wilson's meaningful gaze.

"It's settled, then. Excuse me for a minute."

Cuddy kissed House and headed to the ladies' room. The moment she disappeared behind the corner, Wilson bent toward his friend and muttered,

"There's no way I'll go with you two. You and Cuddy will hit the dance floor, and what am I supposed to do? Thanks, I'll pass."

"Don't you dare!" interrupted House. "With my leg, I won't last more than three songs. Even less when sober. I need a drinking buddy."

Wilson analyzed all the pros and cons. Finally, he made his decision.

"Alright. But you'll owe me big time."

"I forgot you were such a great dance."

House smiled, looking down at Cuddy, whose head had been on his chest for the last two songs. For the first time, he wished he was shorten than she was.

"It's all thanks to the drinks we had with Wilson," the man answered.

They both glanced at the bar where they left the oncologist. He was accompanied by a nicely-dressed middle-aged woman.

"Isn't that the endocrinologist that was sitting in the row below us?" noticed the Dean of Medicine.

"Didn't take him long to find consolation," commented the diagnostician. "Which, thankfully, means that we'd be standing in his way."

Noticing that the woman didn't catch the allusion, he whispered to her ear,

"Maybe we should move the party to your room?"

Cuddy gave the man a questioning look.

"What about my speech?"

"You're next to last. You'll get your sleep."

"You know this will cost you two weeks of free clinic?" She wanted to make sure.

House leaned down to kiss her neck.

"The sex had better be good, then."

Wilson came down for breakfast. The buffet offered much too many dishes. He'd be having problems deciding even without the hangover. It seems he'd never learn to restrain himself in his friend's company. How on earth could a person popping pills like candies drink so much alcohol without consequences?

The oncologist stood still for a moment longer, then grabbed the first sandwich he could reach and sat at the nearest table. Before he took the first bite, though, he heard House's voice from behind.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I would if it wasn't for the couple behind the wall," he replied in a hushed voice. "I thought they'd never stop."

House looked sideways, half-closing his left eye.

"Whops," he said with feign embarrassment. Wilson dropped his sandwich.

"You're kidding!"

"You wish," the diagnostician went on. "You know, the best moment was when Cuddy–"

"House," interrupted the oncologist. "Please, for once in your life, don't confide in me."

"What, are you suddenly disinterested in my life?" He was honestly surprised.

"This, or I simply don't want to hear any details because you're my friends."

"Cut the crap, will ya?" House got impatient. "I had to your whining about each of your ex-wives."

Having said that, he reached for his friend's breakfast, for which he got a rap on the knuckles.

"No, you didn't," protested Wilson. "I didn't want to say a word. You were the one to drag everything out of me and threaten to spread gossips about my marriage if I don't cooperate."

"A fish has to swim. Speaking of fishes, how's the one you hooked last night?"

"Arlene?" he asked. "She's nice. We talked for a while. Unfortunately, she's been happily married for thirteen years."

"Pity," sighed out the taller doctor. "Gotta go. Cuddy's waiting for breakfast."

The oncologist watched his friend carefully.

"Gregory House, who are you?"

"Why are you so surprised?" House raised his cane up to the air. "I'm quite a stud, after all."

He left his friend alone, speechless, with his still untouched sandwich.