You guys are seriously the cutest of them all :3 I'm sorry I haven't been replying to you but life's been kinda crazy for me lately (prom is like in 4 days and I still don't have my complete outfit IT'S FINE I'M NOT FREAKING OUT)

to: CaptainK8; IHeartHouseCuddy; somebadhat; Abby; JLCH; HuddyGirl; SissiCuddles; loyal reader (your english is just fine, yay for Chile :P); Alex; Lisa Cuddy (bless u, you'll get your action in no time! :b); xx; precioussoulandsweetcheeksiin1; housebound; linda12344; Little Greg; Anonymoose; bere; dmarchl21; AtTheBrownstone & all the Guests, thank you so much for all your thoughtful reviews oh and to the anon leaving me ideas on my Tumblr inbox :)

Oh and dear Ravishingly Superior Human Specimen, MF , besides the hilarious nickname, I really appreciated the corrections you made on my grammar, sometimes I have trouble with the silent h's and whatnot and your review helped me understand this part of the english grammar. Would you consider beta reading for me? (pretty please with sugar on top)

This chapter was a bitch to write, I found Blythe immensely difficult to write OC, dunno why. I hope it still makes sense to you though XD

Onwards!

"I…" She tried in vain to get her brain to cooperate with what she was trying to tell him. She finally gasped as he nudged his pelvis against her and sent a fire burst of pleasure rocketing up her spine.

Consequences forgotten, they finally let the fire burn between them.

House was tugging at her shirt, eager to get it off of her, to slide his hands along her smooth, porcelain skin. Cuddy's mind was racing at the speed of her heart, she wasn't thinking clearly, not when he shoved her on the bed, ever so roughly, involuntary sounds escaping her lips. He was kissing her possessively, his lips seldom leaving her own, only when the need for air trumped their need for each other.

Clothes were discarded on the floor, forgotten and unwanted. Her designer skirt still on her, scrunched up at her waist, there was something about making love to Cuddy in her signature power skirts that drove House mad, suddenly having the fantasy unfold to reality before his eyes.

They were so caught up in the moment, the world around them disappeared. There was no lawyer they had to con, no act, no fake marriages or families, there was just the two of them letting themselves gets lost within temptation.

He kissed her neck, marking his territory by sucking on her sensitive skin. She moaned, feeling like the naive 20 year old again.

He pushed himself against her, frustrated by the way his jeans were preventing him from touching her properly. The way his body was reacting to her own sending him over the hedge.

"House, I can't..." - Cuddy's brain won the battle with her heart and the reality of the situation fell upon her - "...House, stop..." - she pushed him away, not forcefully enough to hurt him, just to shook him out of his reverie.

He looked at her confused, a slight pang of guilt stubbornly tugging his chest. His eyes searched hers for an answer. What he saw was not the regret or guilt he was fully expecting to be reflected on her grey eyes. She was smiling at him which completely threw him for a loop, his inability to read her was eerie, unknown and unwanted for the most part.

Sensing his discomfort and uttermost confusion, Cuddy cupped his face with her hand, brushing her thumb over his scruff.

"I don't want to do this."

House was quick on the draw, ignoring the stab of pain ripping through his heart. He should have known better than to let himself be so transparent in front of her, the walls around him were there for a reason and letting her in was probably the stupidest mistake he could have made. He immediately rose from the bed, instantly missing their once shared proximity.

As he was about to leave her side completely, Cuddy grabbed his wrist, forcing him to meet her eyes - "Wait." - House was still refusing to look at her, settling his gaze on one of her decorative pillows, she sighed and continued solemnly - "I didn't say I never want this to happen, I just don't want it to happen like this..." - she gestured between them - "...your mother is in the next room and this whole situation is confusing. If, after this blows over, we still want it to happen, then we'll talk. I just don't want us to get ahead of ourselves."

He nodded, lowering himself on the spot next to her. House was known to put the cat amongst the pigeons in almost every situation of his life, so he chose to remain silent, reluctant and unsure of what to say.

That night, Cuddy couldn't seem to get her brain to shut down, her conversation with House just a few hours prior fueling her brain with endless questions and imaginable outcomes. Getting herself to admit she felt something for the man currently turning her life upside down was something she never though to be possible, she'd told herself over and over again that she would never let herself get hurt, choosing her own self protection over the possibility of love.

Giving up on any chances of falling asleep, she silently got up, glancing at House, careful not to wake him, knowing that he too battled against his brain to get some rest, winning, unlike her.

She made her way to the kitchen, walking down the hall in the dark, more than accustomed to her house plan. Maybe some tea would help her insomnia.

Cuddy remembered how her father used to stay up with her whenever she couldn't sleep, he'd put a kettle on the stove and they'd stay up until wee hours in the morning, talking and drinking tea. She loved it, perhaps his British roots rubbed off on her, or perhaps she loved the sense of comfort it provided her.

She sighed, leaning against the sink as she waited for the water to boil. Once again, she'd gotten herself deep into a situation she couldn't control, and once again the solemn reason she did so was House. The confliction she felt whenever it came to him, whether it was personal or not, irritated her beyond believe.

Blythe made her way into the kitchen, mindful not to startle Cuddy - "Lisa..." - the older woman's attempt not to scare the shit out of her failed, Cuddy jumped, her heart racing at the sudden voice coming from the door.

"Blythe!" She exclaimed, putting her right hand on top of her heart, feeling the busy rhythm underneath her palm.

"I'm sorry, dear, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay" - she knew Blythe didn't scare her intentionally, but Cuddy still had to get used to having someone other than herself wandering about her house so late into the night - "would you like some tea? I just put the kettle on."

Blythe nodded her approval, making her ay across the room, sitting on one of the stools by the counter. The uneasiness in the room was palpable, they'd never been alone with each other, House would always be in their company. Cuddy busied herself with choosing what kind of tea she was in the mood for, taking a far amout of time to do so. She could feel Blythe's eyes one her, or maybe she was just imagining things out of sheer social discomfort.

"Greg's not as strong as he let's on, you know?" The uncomfortable silence was broken by Blythe's raspy voice.

"What?" Cuddy asked confused, turning her attention from the tea bags to the woman across the room.

Blythe smiled soothingly - "I know my son, Lisa, I've been listening to him rant about his disapproval of marriage for years. I'd lost faith along time ago, I knew he would never make that big of a commitment." - Cuddy kept silent, filling two mugs with chamomile tea, settling herself on the opposite end of the counter, facing Blythe - "He wants people to think he's a big impenetrable robot, incapable of feeling any sort of human emotion but deep down he's just afraid of pain. He's been hurt a lot..." - she noticed the slight break on the woman's voice - "... He doesn't trust people. But when he looks at you..." - Blythe smiled - "... I see something in him I hadn't seen in a very long time." - Cuddy's guilt complex was through the roof - "He wouldn't have married you if he didn't think you were worth it."

Cuddy smiled despise everything, she felt the tears threatening to fall but forced herself to keep composure. This situation wasn't fair, the hopeful tone in Blythe's voice cut through her like a knife.

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way, dear. I know when my son's in love and if you married him willingly I can go as far as saying that you love him too." Cuddy's cheeks reddened.

Oh, the irony.

"I'm glad he's found you, even though, I'm still quite upset he hasn't invited me to the ceremony, it's rude to steal a mother's only chance to see her son get married" She added in a playful tone.

What was Cuddy supposed to say? She couldn't tell Blythe the truth, but she could,kt bring herself to lie either.

"Blythe, I... Don't know what to say..." She really, really didn't.

Blythe made her way to her daughter in law, taking with her the red mug she'd been sipping tea from, placing her free hand on Cuddy's shoulder.

"No need to say anything, dear. I'm not trying to intrude, I'm just playing the part of a concerned mother" - she squeezed her shoulder - "Thank you for the tea."

And with that she left the room. Cuddy sat there, her fingers intertwined above the scalding red mug. Sleep was not coming any time soon, not after what had just happened.

Cuddy's weariness had already pushed her past the breaking point, it was evident in her heavy-lidded eyes, her slightly-slowed movements and the way her every reaction seemed a split-second off. She'd been up all night, trying to make sense of the mess that was her life, her thoughts creating havoc inside her mind.

She'd left the house at the break of dawn that morning, not eager to face neither one of the Houses, deciding to bury herself on a pile of paperwork and clinic patients instead of dealing with the emotions.

She hadn't even told her own mother, something she ought to do if she didn't plan on getting disinherited in any given future, that is. Or maybe she wouldn't. What was the point in telling Arlene about her marriage now? So she could decry and criticize her every decision in life? Lecturing her on how she could be just like her sister if only she tried? No, thank you. And besides, she was going to get a divorce in a span of a few weeks.

But she liked House. And he kinda, sorta liked her too. Would he still want to talk, and 'talk' was clearly an euphemism for sex, after they both got what they wanted? Would she?

Argh! Yes, goddammit, she would.

He let her think he was sleeping, being the master in the art of avoidance, he was more than capable of understanding that Cuddy didn't want to deal with their peculiar situation. Fine, he'd let her get away with it.

Feigning sleep with calculated breaths, he felt her fumbling with the sheets and gnashing her jaw in frustration, making a mental note to praise his self control, Cuddy was not keen on subtleness. At one point during the night, he knew she'd gotten up, most likely to poor herself a mug of grime water.

After that, all went blank, exhaustion trumping curiousness and mischievousness. Even evil geniuses had to rest.

Once he regained control over his conscience, he noted hazily how Cuddy's body was pressed against his, left leg bent and intertwined with his own. His first thought was that he would have to tease her, the self-proclaimed, all-powerful Dean of Medicine clinging so tightly to her lowly diagnostician. Then he noticed where they were positioned, the almost-equal space on either side of the mattress, sheets and blankets in a tangled central mass – he had met her halfway.

I was almost finished with the chapter when my internet crashed and I lost almost EVERY F-ING THING I had written. I'm livid. I was actually really enjoying what I was writing but, on my second attempt, I just hated everything. GAH. The last 500+ words are re-written. I apologize if this chapter sucks, but it's late and having to re do everything messed up my brain.

F-R-U-S-T-A-T-I-O-N

~but anyway, let me know what you think. Feedback is vicodin for my muse. And I'm sorry, once again.

PS: leave me your suggestions, ideas etc. pls... I'm running out of plot bunnies!