[Cuddy]

"You're not being reasonable", he says, lifting his chin and throwing both hands in the air. He's pacing inside my office. "We need the brain biopsy to confirm our diagnosis."

"Unless you can justify sticking a needle into a seven year old's head with some evidence of a brain problem, the only think you're going to be sticking into that little girl is another one of those IV bags that's keeping her stable."

He exhales loudly, rubbing a hand up and down his chin. I can see him rapidly trying to think of a counterattack, a different route to get me to say yes.

"House, no matter what you say, the answer is no to the biopsy unless you or one of your team hands me a file with something that says 'cortex' on it", I say quickly.

I can tell he's inwardly fuming. He glares at me for a few seconds and then walks out of the room.

Whatever. If he can't come up with something, the answer is no. He already has two lawsuits pending against him. One more will push him dangerously close to the yearly budget I set aside for his damn craziness. Plus, I don't want to deal with the glares I get at the board meeting and not so sly innuendo from those old fogies about how it must be really good if I can defend yet another one of his crazy stunts.

I straighten out the papers at my desk and resume reading.

[House]

I need that goddamn biopsy. There's no time. I throw the ball against the wall, the window, the desk. God. This is so frustrating. This is moronic. I rest my chin on top of my cane.

I wonder how she's able to block out the amazing sex we had this morning from her mind. I know that I was riding the high all morning, all morning—that is, until she refused the stupid biopsy.

I think over the possible scenarios in my mind. I'm tempted to run over to the clinic and pay Jose fifty bucks to let me into the printing and filing room, but I know that's not an option. I'm not repeating the Hepatitis nightmare we had with that idiot politician. There has to be another way.

Come on, think. Think.

Brain, brain… Nerves, nerve endings… reflexes… Reflexes. Ding.

I pull out my cell phone and call Foreman.

"Foreman, test her reflex arcs again. Chart her responses every half hour. At the rate her brain is turning into swiss cheese, we'll be able to chart her speed-of-light deterioration in a couple of hours. That'll give us a nice nose-dive line graph. Call me if she develops any speech impairment."

I hang up before he can say anything. I don't want to hear his crap right now. I know I'm right. Reflex arcs are the only alternative way to prove my theory. Hopefully we'll have enough of her brain left over after two hours to salvage her already impaired, pathetic life.

[Cuddy]

I feel him sink into the bed next to me. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling my back into his chest. His body is so warm. I sigh softly at the sensation of his body seeming to meld into mine. I'll never tell him that because a) it's too embarassingly cheesy to admit, and b) if I do tell him, he'll come up with some manipulative game where he tries to hug me every time he wants something.

I rest my hand over his hand that's covering my stomach. He presses his lips against my neck.

"How's the girl?" I ask.

"Well, Dr. Cuddy, it looks like we cut into her head just in time. She'll live. She won't be winning any science fairs, but she won't drool her life away in a nursing home for kiddies."

I laugh softly.

He starts running his other hand gently through my hair. He kisses me on top of my head. I close my eyes, ready to drift off to sleep.

He clears his throat. "Um…Eh hem…"

"What" I say sleepily.

"You know, tomorrow is Saturday."

"Yeah. So?"

"So…tonight, we can go to bed really, really late."

"It's already late."

"Yeah, but we can go to bed lat-er." He says as he presses himself closer against me. I feel him gently kiss the pulse point in my neck and lick it softly.

"Hmm…is that so" I reply, breathing slowly so that my pulse doesn't speed up too quickly. He'd detect that in a second.

"Yes," he says, as he gently grabs my shoulder and turns me around to face him.

We're facing each other now. I can see his blue eyes watching me in the darkness.

He brings his right hand up to my face and cups my cheek with it.

"Hey," he says, leaning in. He kisses me for a few seconds.

My pulse is already starting to speed up. "Yeah?" I reply, giving him a small peck on the lips.

He brushes his lips softly against mine, side to side. His tongue just barely touches my bottom lip.

"I think I deserve an award for being a good employee today."

I can't help but laugh.

"House, we agreed to keep our work life separate."

"But, mom, talking about what already happened at work can hardly be crossing the line. It's just an after-the-fact examination."

"House, what you're saying doesn't even make sense…And don't call me mom "

"My impaired brain function might have something to do with the function happening in my pants right now," he grumbles.

I laugh. I wait. I want to tease him. I say nothing.

I hear him huff in frustration after a while. "Fine, if-" he starts to say.

I shut him up with my lips and climb on top of him, pinning his arms to the bed. He looks at me in surprise for a second.

I smile down at him and grind my pelvis gently into his. "So…what kind of reward are you talking about?" I ask as I bend down to kiss him again. I continue grinding. I can hear and feel his breath speeding up. I can feel him hardening against me.

He breaks free of my grip on his arms and places one hand on my chest, one hand on my hip. "I'm…uh…sure we can come to an agreement on something," he says, slightly out of breath. "But, uh… you need to get your rotundus ass naked right now because there's a time limit on reward redemption."

"Oh, is that so," I say as take his hand off me and pull my nightgown over my head."

I see his eyes flashing in the dark, and he grabs me suddenly, pulling me down on the bed. In seconds, he's on top of me, nuzzling and kissing my ear, my neck. "Damn right," he says, and I feel his hands travel down my stomach.

[House]

I hear the padding of feet coming into the room. I open one eye, and I have to squint because the sun is streaming unto the bed. Cuddy's still asleep, her breath warm and even next to me.

I lift my head to see Rachel standing in the doorway, her striped pink pajamas slightly wrinkled, her brown her slightly messy. She's holding something.

I squint harder to see. My breath stops for a second.

She's holding an orange prescription bottle.