Back again. Cuddy would definitely be counting this one of her worst days. House had passed the last half hour of his clinic shift making a castle out of tongue depressors, which he of course threw out afterwards, no worries there. Now here he was, happily free and giddily anticipating the havoc he was about to wreak on Cuddy's music induced dreams. House had held up his end of the bargain, and similarly, Cuddy was holding up hers. There she was, lying on her couch, eyes closed, mouth curled into a relaxed smile, music almost blasting. He had never seen her so relaxed and happy, he almost hated to end it. Almost.

House picked his cane up off the floor and tucked it under his arm as he put a hand on the door to her office. He pushed gently, careful to make as little noise as possible, even with the music blaring. There was always the chance that she would hear him enter, music or no. Once he had the door opened the appropriated amount he placed one foot in, and then the other. Sneaking when you have a limp is no easy task, especially if you're avoiding the extra noise of the cane by having it tucked under your arm. However, House was a singularly talented person, and succeeded in this task flawlessly. He let the door close slowly and silently, and then turned to look at Cuddy. The way she was laying there was no chance of seeing up her skirt, but as always, he did have a lovely view of her breasts. He sighed noiselessly.

He started across the room to where she lay, trying desperately not to get caught up in the rhythm of 'You Can't Always Get What You Want' by The Rolling Stones. Aww, she was playing their song, how sweet. He reached the couch successfully and was standing over her now, head tilted, looking into her face curiously. The fact that she looked indescribably peaceful made the dead that he was about to perform unbelievably sweet. He grinned evilly as he moved himself to face Cuddy. He hesitated slightly to be sure, then bent down to be face to face with Cuddy, their faces only eight inches apart. He listened intently to her breathing, judging between the two things he could do. It all depended on whether she was asleep, which she was. Goody.

House reached over to the iPod that was resting on the coffee table next to him and turned off the music. The room went silent, deathly silent…really silent. He smiled and turned back to Cuddy. He closed about two inches of distance between them. He felt strangely like all those Prince Charmings waking Sleeping Beauties or Snow Whites. Cuddy was neither of those, and House was definitely not Prince Charming, or even charming for that matter. Even his mother would attest to that. House waited another moment to make sure the change in sound wouldn't wake her. It didn't. He grinned again and took a deep breath. "Dr. Cuddy!" Screamed House.

Cuddy jerked awake, gasped and jolted upright, causing hers and House's head to collide. Cuddy grasped her head as she rolled off the couch and onto the floor. House dropped his cane as he reached for his own head, bent over in pain, limping around the room. If anyone had walked in just then their first impulse would have been to call the psych ward. Their second impulse would be to burst out in uncontrollable laughter. Cuddy crawled around on the floor with one hand on her head, House managed to make his way back over to his cane, which he now continuously pounded against the floor. As Cuddy groped for the coffee table's support in an effort to get to her feet, she accidentally turned the iPod back on. Both of them were startled by the sudden sound of something AC/DC. In all the excitement neither of them recognized exactly what. "You jerk!" Snapped Cuddy.

"What?" Yelled House.

"I hate you!"

"You're telling me I made a snafu!" Agreed House.

"What?"

"Turn the music off!"

"I will not take my shirt off!" Exclaimed Cuddy.

"Why not?"

"I don't care if you think it would be hot!"

"Oh, okay!" House made his way over to the iPod and turned it off. Cuddy slowly made her way from the floor to the couch, House stood and looked at her as he rubbed his forehead. Cuddy finally looked at House with one of those looks. Foreman often gave him the same look. Both Cuddy and Foreman had one eyebrow perpetually raised. House swore that one day they'd look in the mirror and realize they were meant for each other. Closet soap opera addicts and perpetual eyebrow raising, what kind of basis for a relationship would that be? Maybe he'd never know. "You okay?" Asked House. Cuddy glared at him.

"Yeah, I'm terrific." She answered sarcastically. "Why would you do that to me?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly my plan to give us both concussions." Said House. "But on the other hand, now we match! If I started wearing low cut shirts and high heels we'd practically be twins!"

"Get out."

"Uh-uh, now I've got to make sure that you don't have a concussion." He said as he took out a flashlight from his pocket and sat on the coffee table in front of Cuddy.

"Get real. I'm fine, you get out." She said swatting away the flashlight as he brought it up to shine in her eyes.

"Hold still." He said as he tried again.

"No."

"Hold still." He snapped, firmly and forcefully. She sighed and complied. After about a minute or so of pupil checking and head fondling he sighed and nodded. "You're fine." He moved to put the flashlight back when she grabbed it from his hand.

"I haven't done you yet." She said as he looked at her curiously. At her reply his eyes lit up.

"Oh I wish you would."

"Shut up and hold still." She said as she shined the light in his eyes. More head fondling ensued, another sigh and another nod. "You're fine."

"I know." Said House. "All the girls think so." Cuddy rolled her eyes, which hurt her head. House noticed and frowned. "Ice."

"You too. Now get out and take your damn iPod with you."

"You can't tell me you didn't enjoy yourself."

"I didn't." Answered Cuddy.

"Your lips say no, but your eyes say yes."

"No, it's my head that says no."

"Your head always says no."

"Get out now!" House held up his hands in resignation and made his exit, head pounding, but heart singing 'You Can't Always Get What You Want'. The clinic, the patients, the headache, had it all been worth it just to scare the crap out of Cuddy? House stopped, looked back through the clear glass doors and grinned. Yeah, it had all been worth it. Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of question.

The last line is a quote from Shakespeare's King Henry V.