Hi guys!

Remember that last drabble, with Cuddy dealing with menopause? Yeah. Forget about that. Cause this story doesn't make any sense at all. (Sorry :3)

So yeah. Thank you for the feedback you left last time! I hope you'll enjoy this drabble, too, even if it contradicts a certain drabble that you might have read already. :D

37. I'll take you to the hospital.

When House came home that night, he found Cuddy curled up on the couch, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug.

"Did I miss Rachel's bedtime?" he asked, abandoning his blue backpack against the wall. His coat made it all the way into the closet, but his sneakers didn't, tucked under the coffee table.

"By half an hour."

He sprawled beside her, noticing the TV wasn't on, and she wasn't reading a book or a magazine; she was nestled into the corner of the couch, her eyes closed, taking up as little space as it was physically possible. "What's up?"

"Waiting for the ibuprofen to kick in," she answered weakly.

"That time of month?" She nodded. "Guess you're closed for business tonight, huh?"

Her eyes popped open. "House, even if I didn't have gallons of blood pouring out of my vagina right now, I'm in too much pain to even move from this couch, let alone have sex with you."

He patted her knee. "Come on, then. I'll take you to the hospital."

She glared at him. Took a sip from her tea.

"That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad."

"Turn away," he told her, taking the mug from her hands and setting it on the coffee table.

"Why?"

"Turn away," he repeated, wiggling his fingers. "Let my hands work their magic on you."

She sighed and did as she was told, facing the window. "I know you. No touching below the belt."

"Promise." He cupped her tiny waist, letting his thumbs rub the small of her back. Cuddy emitted a small moan, but he couldn't tell if it were from relief or discomfort. "How does it feel?"

"Just… Bloated. Raw. Inflamed. I don't know. It just hurts." He nodded. "Didn't have it in me to go get the heating pad."

"Heat helps?"

"Yeah."

He handed her her tea back, blew air into his hands and rubbed them together, before he threaded his way under her sweater and held her waist again. He resumed massaging her lower back for a few minutes, even if he didn't feel her relax much under his touch.

"You don't have to do that," she told him eventually. "Ibuprofen will kick in sooner or later."

"Well, I do admit that helping my girlfriend with her menstrual cramps wasn't exactly what I had in mind for tonight." She had a small smile, which he didn't see. "It's fine. I can just cash in that favor later on. Maybe you can massage my penis."

She turned around. The tight lines around her jaw and eyes had loosened just the tiniest bit.

"Dream on, House."