.

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go – Oscar Wilde

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.*.*.*.*

Cuddy was about to give up on Dolus. This wasn't the first time – he'd talked and talked and talked about giving a donation to the hospital – correction, a 'sizable' donation to the hospital but he was all talk … and touching. A touch of the hand here, a hand on her elbow there, arm around her shoulders at the slightest provocation or, more to the point, non-provocation. Now some people were just a touchy feely type of people, she didn't mind those, but this guy… he just creeped her out. He was angling for Cuddy to go to dinner with him. She was trying to talk about the various projects and departments that might appeal to him.

She didn't often socialise with donors like this. The only reason she'd agreed now was because House was within sight… and yelling distance. She smiled internally to think of House as some sort of chaperone. House's ribbing years ago about her dating the nephew of a donor still rang in her ears, but she had a very definite dividing line. She did not want to be associated with any tales that she put out for big donations. She was not prostituting herself for the hospital.

Not that she might not have been tempted to bend the rule for an intriguing specimen – what better way to meet a certain calibre of man than through functions and fund raisers. Unfortunately, not many donors were single males - well, not those who warranted the individual attention of the Dean of Medicine. Of those that were, not many were appealing. Oh, they had power and money, some were handsome, some had an intriguing amount of intelligence – most had the equivalent amount of arrogance, egotism and narcissism to balance it out. Not that the combination always ended up being negative but she hadn't got where she was today without having similar characteristics. By the laws of magnetism, animal or otherwise, likes repelled each other.

This guy though, she wasn't sure if he was taking it as a personal affront that she wouldn't go out with him or if he saw it as some sort of challenge. Whatever, she didn't think he was ever going to give a donation but as she'd had a few minutes to spare, and she was in a public place she couldn't miss the opportunity to give it another shot. Perhaps, a few drinks would loosen his cheque book. Unfortunately, as she expected, it was a complete waste of time. Then again, if she wasn't getting a compensatory gain from this bit of gay dissipation at least she and House couldn't say anything to antagonise each other. Her mind was wandering - the perils of boredom. She tuned back into what he was saying. 'Me, me, me, mine, me, me.' God, what a bore. Even talking to House was better than this… did she just think that? On balance, maybe she'd rather be thrown to the lions. God, she hoped that House was going to behave himself tonight. She didn't want a totally ruined evening.

Talking of which it was time to herd House into the function and having got him this far suitably attired - amazingly, hair brushed – that was her and much squirming he'd done to try to avoid it. It had cost her a day's clinic duty, and she was surprised he hadn't run his hand through his hair just to annoy her. Perhaps he was saving that for later – just before he spoke, naturally. She'd finished her drink and was about to make her excuses when another had appeared at her elbow. She'd been politely going to leave it when he'd tempted her back with the 'just one more drink ploy' which wouldn't have worked but reached for his cheque book which did. He started mentioning numbers for the donation that kept her in her seat for a few more minutes. He'd encouraged her to drink up. She had a sip of her drink to keep him happy. Then he'd clinked glasses with her saying here's to a lasting relationship and downed his drink. She was about to follow suit when a hand covered hers and removed the glass from her grasp. She looked up.

"House!" she exclaimed.

"You don't want to drink this, Cuddy. It's not kosher." He looked deadly serious.

"What?" For a fleeting instant she considered it was House up to his usual tricks, but no, that was his concerned look. She turned back to look at Dolus - indignant bluster – here it came.

"How dare you…?" she waded in.

"I couldn't possibly…" Dolus countered, but he looked like a trapped rat.

"What?" butted in House. "Have done anything? Let's see - accused of doctoring Cuddy's drink instead of outraged denial, we get defensive avoidance. Of course, you didn't do it yourself. You don't do anything for yourself. You got one of your minions to do it." House poured the drink into the bottle he'd got from the bar tender. "How much did you drink, Cuddy.?" He gave her a concerned look.

"Just a few sips," she responded, looking anxious.

"What was it, Dopus?" House asked.

"It's Dolus, Mr Dolus and I don't know what you're talking about." He looked over at his body guards.

"Don't signal to your guys, because my guy has instructions to phone the police if your guys move. I saw it happen." Dolus licked his lips, looked at House to gauge if he was telling the truth. House nodded in the direction of the barman who was holding a phone in his hand.

"If the cops test this, what will they find?" House shook the bottle in his face. Dolus shook his head at his body guards who remained where they were.

"Thought so," said House. He turned to Cuddy. "Do you want to press charges, Cuddy?" Dolus started to panic.

"Look, I've never done this before. I don't know what it was. The guy said it was..." Dolus blustered.

"A real panty peeler?" interrupted House.

"No. No. A… er… relaxant, just to help with the mood." Dolus looked anxiously from House to Cuddy. "Really, Lisa." He leaned towards her. "I didn't mean any harm…"

"Shut up!" said Cuddy, in a dangerously controlled voice. "It's Dr Cuddy to you. I don't believe a word your saying." Dolus sat back sharply and looked terrified.

"You should press charges, Cuddy. Another woman might not be so lucky," said House.

"Please, if we could not make a scene. I mean nothing has happened, just a misunderstanding," Dolus weaselled. Cuddy stared at him in disbelief.

"Misunderstanding…" started House, loudly, only to be drawn up short by Cuddy's hand on his arm. He looked at her surprised. Then a resigned look appeared on his face.

"I'm guessing you'd rather not have a scene either?" he said. She gave him an apologetic look. "Cuddy…"

"I know," she forestalled him. "Later." House pursed his lips together in dissent and stared at her hard. Then he sighed.

"Perhaps, a nice big fat cheque would help paper over the 'misunderstanding'?" he said to her.

"That's blackmail!" objected Dolus. House's head snapped back to stare at him. He waved the bottle in front of him again.

"And this is statutory rape, Dupus – which charge do you think might stick?" Dolus looked apprehensive.

"I… I…that's not…" he mumbled to a standstill.

"You were speaking about donations. Your cheque book's out. If you don't want a scene what could be more natural than you start writing," continued House. Dolus glanced from House to Cuddy and back. He was presented with two impregnable glares. He swallowed.

"Five thousand?" he suggested.

"That's an insult to the Dean's honour." House had no idea what Dolus was worth, but with two body guards the guy had got to be worth more than that. Fortunately, Cuddy was bound to be more clued up and she was good at negotiations.

"Cuddy, what price do you put on your virtue?"

"Five hundred thousand," she stated, baldly. House whistled.

"What?" Dolus spluttered.

"I don't hear the dulcet tones of pen on cheque book," said House.

"I can't afford…" Dolus started. He was sweating.

"It's less than ten percent of your annual disposable income," Cuddy jumped in. "And you get a tax break. You're getting off lightly."

Dolus grumpily started writing a cheque. Then he stopped again.

"How do I know you won't send it to the police anyway?"

"Well, 'I' might," said House, "but on receipt of a cheque, I will give Dr. Cuddy the bottle and she will decide what to do with it. Dr Cuddy being above reproach. Naturally, should the cheque bounce, she may well change her mind. Mind you, she's a woman - she might change her mind anyway." Dolus looked anxiously at Cuddy.

"You have my word," she said. Dolus licked his lips, fidgeted with his pen looked down, looked up again before finishing writing the cheque. He picked it up with both hands and stared at it before looking across at Cuddy again. Finally he offered it to Cuddy who whisked it out of his hand.

"Come on let's get you out of here," said House, handing her the bottle. Cuddy and House walked silently out of the bar but once in the lobby House spoke.

"Every woman has got her price. So many men, so few who can afford you," snarked House.

"Shut up," she replied, but without malice. House reached for the bottle.

"Give me that."

"I couldn't possibly," she said. House grasped the bottle and she released it without a fight.

"Brute!" she said.

"You know I'm going to test this?" House asked her. She smiled.

"I wouldn't expect anything else."

"Depending on the results I might send it to the appropriate authorities," House persisted.

"I wouldn't expect anything else," she said again.

"What?" She'd caught him off-guard. That was obviously not what he was expecting her to say. "Just wait until the cheque has cleared. And send it anonymously."

"Cuddy?" He said with a perplexed frown.

"What?" She returned, innocently.

"You gave your word."

"Yes, I gave mine. I expect you to be your usual lying, cheating, rule breaking, underhanded son of a bitch. Are you going to disappoint me?"

House stared at her for a moment, then a sly smile appeared.

"You're my kind of sly, cunning, evil administrator." House pocketed the bottle and they resumed walking through the lobby. Cuddy tried to drag House towards the function. House guided her towards the elevators.

"House, the function."

"We've no idea what this is, what effect it might have you, or when and for how long. Do you want to be sat in a function and suddenly pass out, dance on the tables, be inappropriately affectionate with your dinner partner?"

"It was only a few sips. I'm feeling fine," insisted Cuddy.

"If anything untoward happens I won't be able to cover for you. There'll be a scene, something you've just prostituted yourself to avoid." Cuddy swallowed. Twice – once for the inconvenient truth and once for the other unpalatable truth.

"Good point. But you can go." He shook his head.

"Not leaving you on your own." Cuddy started getting worried he was going to wriggle out of the function.

"I'm fine." She tried to reassure him.

"I repeat what effect and when?"

"I'll go to my room," she bargained.

"No. I repeat what and when? And what if he tries to follow you? We'll go to mine."

"House, please."

"I'm not going to that function until I've seen you safely in my room. Do you want to keep arguing that point here or shall we argue on the way there?" She folded as far as getting in the elevator.

"I'm fine," she tried again.

"Let's keep you that way." House was unmoved.

"House, you need to do the speech."

"So you keep saying. The quicker you accede to my requests, the quicker I get back down stairs." They exited the elevator.

"If I go to your room, you'll go to the function on your own, play nice with the boring people, no mocking, no sarcasm, and you'll do a real speech?" He screwed his face up.

"Tricky about the sarcasm."

"Minimum sarcasm."

"And the mocking," he added.

"House!"

"Okay, okay. I'll do my best." He led the way into his room. "Now get on the bed."

"What?" Surely he wasn't going to pull a stunt now.

"And I need your hose," added House, his face immobile.

"Did you drink the contents of that bottle?"

"It's either that or my tie." He reached for the knot. She batted his hand away. "Cuddy, I can't just leave you. You could end up walking out of here, leaping from the roof, jumping the first man you see, and having no memory of it tomorrow. I'm not going until you're secure. So quicker you're on the bed…"

"House, don't you think you're over reacting?" He shook his head.

"Not going."

"What if I'm sick?" She changed tack.

"I'll tie you so you won't suffocate on your own vomit."

"How reassuring." She paused. He was not going to budge. "You'll do the speech? No pranks or skiving."

"Yes! Now assume the position."

"If there's even a rumour of this getting out you'll change religion - with no anaesthetic," she grumbled.

"Time's awasting, Cuddy." She continued to look undecided. House sighed.

"I'll set the laptop up so I can keep an eye on you through my mobile. If it looks like you're in distress I'll be right up."

"I don't want you leaving the function! You're just looking for an excuse to take pictures. You're trying to get back at me for the Photoshop thing." House sighed.

"Cuddy! You're going to have to trust me on this or I don't go."

"If you don't go…"

"Yes, yes, yes. We'll both be out of a job. I'm not the one holding up the proceedings here. But at least you'll still be alive to look after Rachel." Cuddy scowled.

"Do you have to be so dramatic! Turn round."

"What?"

"You're not watching me take off my hose."

"You're missing your chance to have your wicked way with me." But he turned round, took the plastic bottle out of his pocket and walked towards the mini bar. Having finished with that he booted up his laptop.

"You indecent yet?" he asked.

"Yes, get on with it." Came the grumpy response. House set up the laptop next to the bed, got her positioned on her side and tied her up. As he moved back he let his hands linger just over her breasts.

"House!" Cuddy glared. He laughed, moved his hands away and got up.

"I'm going, Gorgon. Keep you panties on. You have got panties on haven't you? Or a thong?" he looked curiously at her hips.

"House."

"Going. I'll steal you some food." He walked towards the door. "I'll switch the TV on for you," he said, as he passed the remote control. "Oh, look monster trucks…." He hastened out of the door, to the sounds of her 'Noooooooooooooooo'.