Sorry I've been so long away! I hope you guys are still with me! Hahaha. If you're not, I completely understand. I took my sweet time in getting back to this story, after finals last term, Spring Break and the start of this term.

I've decided to keep this fic entirely Huddy oriented, so if you want to see some Wilson, Chase, Cameron or Foreman you'll have to wait until I start the All Cast story I've got buzzing about my skull.

Of course, that one will have Huddy, too. -shifty eyes-

Alrighty, read and review! Let me know if I've been away -too- long.

No Strings Attached

He liked the way she smelled in the morning. Her scent, the lingering perfume of her shampoo and soap mixed with the tacky, almost musky fragrance of the previous day's activities. He could smell himself on her, a new and intoxicating aroma. It completed her allure entirely: not that he was a part of her there was no stepping back. He wanted to wake up with her in his arms each morning, this smell their shared cologne, their bed one and the same. For a while he simply rested with her, feigning sleep, focusing on the way her unconscious breathing regulated itself to his heartbeat.

At length he opened his eyes and let the first sight of the morning be the subtle curve of her shoulder. It was soft, seeming to glow in the early morning haze that filtered in through the window. He, pulled by an uncompromising magnetism, pressed his lips to that tender, gently warm skin, following the line of her shoulder blade with a trail of kisses to the hollow of her neck that the position of her head on the pillow created. He felt her hum of pleasure against his lips, and it made him grin. He held her closer, protective as much as possessive, and she rolled in his grip to face him.

She, for one tantalizing moment, lingered in the boundaryless closeness her change of position had left them in. Their faces were level, their noses touching, their lips where House believed they should be more often: perfectly poised for a kiss. Under the sheets, he felt her slip her arms around the thickness of his upper chest, one of her legs finding a home in his, her ankle hugged by his calves.

He moved to kiss her, a very slight forward motion of his head, but she blocked his attempt by pecking his lips lightly once, then pulling away. They were still facing each other, but now inches, not breaths, separated them. Drawing a deep breath one that made House sigh vicariously, Cuddy smiled at her lover playfully.

"Now how did I get here?"

House walked his fingers along her spine with his upper hand, the lower pinned under her light body, his hand eventually finding her hair to nestle in. He massaged her neck, reveling in the way her hair excited and tickled the back of his hand. He returned her playful look, his slightly challenging, his voice proud and confident, "what can I say?"

"You got me drunk?" she offered. The way her nose wrinkled disdainfully did more to make him laugh than the comment.

"You were fully aware of your actions, and completely consensual. It's not my fault you can't resist me," House said in a voice under oath. Then, with condescension, added, "it's a two way street, Lisa."

Cuddy chuckled, amused by how natural the whole situation felt. The pointless, silence filling banter was ever present, a staple of their relationship regardless of setting. It felt just as right in her office, her yelling at him as his boss, as it did in her bedroom, their bodies entwined.

She closed her eyes and let him move over her. It was not a sexual advance, both still recovering from their afternoon together and the subsequent night in her bed, but for Cuddy it was no less enjoyable. His long pianist's fingers played over her body, tasting her curves, exploring her as he made himself familiar with every tender spot, his favorites the ones that made her moan. He allowed his lips to join the game, their focus the fine lines of her eyelids, her high, enticing cheek bones, the strong lines of nose and chin, as well as the arch of her slightly fevered forehead. He came to abrupt stop, looking down into her breath taking eyes. The annoyance at the interruption, the understanding of what caused it, and the ferocity of her impatience broke his attempt at being serious.

"You going to work today," he endeavored.

"Of course," she took the pause as her cue to escape him, the clock on her nightstand telling her she might as well start getting ready for the day. House did not relent, his arms an effective cage. She relaxed on her back, staring up at him with an order in her eyes, the way she often looked at him at work. Even this familiar expression was new and enrapturing for House, who delighted in seeing it and did nothing in reply, "I don't even feel sick. The fever will just wear itself out."

For a while his eyes stayed locked on hers, and she knew her comments were useless. They lapsed into silence, their wills, rather than their words, battling for control of the situation. His gaze wavered, journeying down from her face, and she became very aware of how naked they were. There was no way to hide from him, the sheets tented over his back, but she had no desire to. Her eyes flashed, though he missed it in his distraction, and she quickly devised an escape plan.

Leaning up to him suddenly, she took his face into her hands and pulled him into a long, deep kiss. Whether he fell for it or let her think he had, just to participate, her ploy worked. He relaxed on top of her, his hands finding a new, appropriate home for the duration of her fit of passion over her breasts. She stayed a moment longer than she wanted to, then broke away from their contact. The jolt of their disconnection affected both of them, but neither said a word.

House watched her cross the room, raw and erotic in her bold nakedness. If she had any sort of shyness of modesty about her body she did not let him see it. Her confidence and, inexplicably, her intelligence seemed to radiate from her fully exposed form, propounding the fact that house never doubted: she was a match for him. He could see everything about her in that one moment, and took his time drinking it in. Staring at her unabashedly, he imagined that this was the physical manifestation of all the differences that made them, House and Cuddy, the only two people who could ever be perfect for one another.

"When are you on?" Cuddy asked, not realizing House could not hear her.

Her body was smooth and flawless, her skin lustrous, her hair thick and soft. Her body was tight and finely toned, her arms long and her hands showing no sign of the years of abuse they received from medical and paper work. Her legs were contoured dangerously, making him hiss a breath out through his teeth as he examined them. There was something about the way her bare feet looked against the carpet of her bedroom that made House nervous. It was a strange thing to focus on, considering her lack of clothes, but he could not shake the fact that he rarely saw her bare feet, and having them now before him, the toes kneading the carpet nervously, made him wonder just how far they had come.

He stood, wanting to go to her, but resisted his impulse as she looked at him curiously. He had leapt a bit too quickly, resulting in a painful scramble as he stooped to brace himself on the edge of the bed. His leg seared bitterly, reminding him that he had been too long without his other addiction. Cuddy, drawing her bathrobe, an article of clothing House now considered a friend, around her, went to her purse and produced a bottle of pills. She returned to him before he could even locate his jacket, proffering the bottle with a slightly raised eyebrow, clearly hearing House's next question in her mind before he opened his mouth.

"You keep vicodin for me?" his voice broke, and he chocked on his words. He bit his lower lip, as if his emotions were just too much, forcing his chin into a quiver that made Cuddy roll her eyes. She knew he was just teasing her, and did not grant him a response. Disappointed, but not completely deterred, House put his comments on the back burner as he opened the bottle and popped a pill.

Cuddy took the opportunity to examine him, much as he had done her. His body was grizzled and rough, but virile and chiseled. He wasn't overly muscular, but the strong angles of his body distributed his weight in an appealing, aesthetically pleasing way. His hands captivated her, as they always did, the fingers long and individually clever. She barely registered the scar on his leg, seeing now without the surprise of when he dropped his pants so long ago in her office. There was nothing scary or ugly about it, to her, though, she knew she should harbor some bitterness towards it for causing him so much pain. He turned away from her, on purpose she supposed, and she let herself admire his backside.

She liked what she saw.

"That's right," House said, casting a glance over his shoulder to catch the half grin Cuddy could not wipe away fast enough, "take it all in."

"Put something on, House," she said, her words laughing without her permission.

"I need to shower. Care to join me?"

"No."

House frowned, half expecting her to honestly bat the idea around, instead of shooting him down so thoroughly. He snorted through his nose, indignant, and limped his way to the bathroom. He did not ask after a towel or supplies, leaving Cuddy to wonder what state her bathroom was going to be in once he was finished. Safely alone, she allowed herself a very fond smile, hugging herself just to make sure she wasn't in a dream or, as she nearly feared, a nightmare.

Getting fresh, work appropriate clothes from the correct cabinets around her room, Cuddy reflected on the evening. After falling to sleep with him on the sofa she had awoken to a dark, peaceful home. He was holding on to her like he was afraid to lose her, not just because she was teetering precariously on the edge of the sofa, but for a reason he kept to himself. She hadn't woken him, simply remaining in his grasp, listening to the way his breathing somehow managed to echo the slow, comfortable beat of her heart.

Somehow, after he had stirred, they ended up in the bedroom. She sat down on the messy sheets of her bed, a dopey, distracted smile on her face as she blushed and thought back on their night together. House's voice snapped her out of her trance.

He grinned, unable to resist, "Dreaming about me again?"

She averted her eyes, admitting her shame without a chance to stop herself. Caught in a double take, she looked back at him, noting that he was wearing a towel around his waist but was not yet wet. She tilted her head, simply waiting for his explanation.

"I'm waiting for you to join me."

"I told you no," she reminded him, standing and motioning to her clothes, "I'm fully dressed."

House advanced towards her, limping without his cane yet maintaining an appropriate saunter, causing both of them to grin naughtily, "I can easily remedy that."

She ducked away from him, side stepping and using the speed advantage that comes with two legs against him. He turned, looking disappointed, his lips drawn into a taut, thin line. She shrugged harmlessly, pretending to ignore him by retrieving her comb and brushing her hair. He sighed, defeated, and returned to the bathroom to take his lonely shower.

Cuddy finished getting ready, venturing into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. He tried everything he could think of to get her into the shower with him, some tactics less tasteful than others, but nothing proved effective. Soon enough he grew tired of waiting in the water for her, and emerged into the living room dressed in the clothes he had worn the day before. Cuddy looked at him, smiling at his hair. It was messy, still damp despite a good toweling, sticking out in random directions. He noticed her silent mockery, but resisted the impulse to run his hand through his hair. If she wanted to laugh at him, he would let her. Eventually, he would have his revenge for so small a slight. There was, after all, a long day at work ahead of them.

After declining an offer of breakfast, House made ready to leave. Cuddy informed him that she planned on driving in to work on her own today, and that he could come on his bike later. He looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, and she pointed at his wrinkled, disheveled clothes.

"You'd better go to your place and change before coming into work, don't you think?"

"But then people wouldn't know I spent the night at someone else's place, nor would they assume that I had sex with anyone. If I go to work like this, mere moments behind you, everyone will think exactly what I want them too. I like it when I can control people's thoughts. Makes me feel like a puppet master."

"No, House," Cuddy said sternly, eyes blazing with conviction, "I don't want the hospital to buzz with some unflattering rumor. If you want to be a couple at the hospital, fine, but I will not be your sex buddy, or your booty call. I don't want my reputation in the hospital smeared just because you think it would be funny making every one think I'm easy."

"To be fair-"

"Don't even finish that sentence," Cuddy shoved by him, almost making him lose grip on his cane, and went to the front door. She held it open expectantly, forcing him out with her withering gaze so she could lock it behind them. House stood absurdly near to her, her elbow poking his stomach as she tried to work the key in the lock. She shoved her elbow back, a less than friendly warning that she was not in the mood to deal with his toying around.

"There is no need to get abusive," House said casually, making his way down the walk. Looking up, he noted that the sky had not cleared through the night, and now looked to be on the verge of a storm. The sight brought a fire to his chest, and chuckle to his throat that he could not place. Shifting his gaze back to Cuddy, he watched her open the garage door, the touch of a button revealing her car, and sighed. He had a feeling that pestering her until she got on his bike with him would be about as effective and satisfying as their shower together.

He smirked at her enigmatically, making the muscles in her neck and stomach tighten nervously. Whatever he was planning, she already did not approve.

"I'll see you at work in an hour, then, Doctor Cuddy."