The relationship between the two doctors didn't exactly start off on the best of terms.

The first time House showed up at his boss' door it was a warm May night. He was drunk and angry at the world.

"House, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I want an explanation," he slurred.

"For what?"

"For why you didn't let Vogler fire me."

By that time Edward Vogler and his hundred million dollars had been gone for months. It was hardly a secret that Vogler and House despised each other from Day One. Vogler did everything in his power to get the board to fire House, but Cuddy held out and sent him and his money packing. It became an unwritten rule at the hospital to not mention Voglers name around House because it got him so riled up.

"I wanted to be able to look at myself in the mirror every morning," she answered evasively, hoping it would make him shut up and go away.

After narrowing his eyes and leaning on his cane, House said, "So you're telling me you traded one hundred million dollars for a crippled drug addict and a little piece of mind. Now I'm telling you I don't believe a goddamn word of it!"

The door slammed in his face.

Five days later he showed up again.

"You never gave me an explanation," he said when she finally opened the door.

SLAM

At least he wasn't drunk that time.

Another nine days passed before House came back.

"Open the door, please! Dr. Cuddy, I know you're in there. Will you please open up. It's starting to rain and I'm getting soaked. Just open the door..."

Indeed, the rain soon turned into a torrential downpour and Cuddy finally relented. It was too late, House looked like a drowned rat. She led him to the kitchen where he could drip on the linoleum instead of the carpet. "Don't move," she said, then rounded a corner and reappeared with a towel.

As he toweled off his hair, House said, "All you had to do was vote yes at that board meeting..."

"Get over yourself, House. It wasn't just about you."

"So what was it about?"

Cuddy sighed and said, "We lost one hundred million dollars and I'll regret it until the day I die. But that son-of-a-bitch Vogler thought all he had to do was throw enough money at something and he would get his way. He tried to get rid of Wilson just because Wilson had the gall to disagree with him. Then he would have got rid of you and I have no doubt I would have been out on my ass next. The hospital would have been filled with Voglers yes-men kowtowing to his every whim instead of doctors helping sick patients."

For a few minutes they stood together, not speaking, the only sound being the pouring rain.

"So that was hardly about getting a little piece of mind," he said.

"You're goddamn right it wasn't."

"Can you look at yourself in the mirror every morning?"

"Yes."

"Well then," House said, drying off his cane, "You could have told me all that in the beginning and saved yourself from having to wash an extra towel."

When he showed up again the next night Cuddy's jaw hit the floor.

"What do you want now?"

"May I come in?" he asked quietly. The porch lights shined in his eyes, making them glow.

"Why, so you can ogle my 'funbags' as you so charmingly call them?"

"No," he said, then purposely lowered his gaze to her chest. "But if you want me to I have no problem with it. Or am I interrupting something? If you need a few minutes to put away the whips and chains I can wait."

"If I let you in will you shut up?" she asked incredulously.

"Maybe," he smirked. "Will you whip me if I don't? Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Just get in here," she sighed, defeated, holding open the door. House limped past her to the living room and flopped on the couch. With his right hand he twirled the cane like a top.

"Are you going to tell me the real reason you're here?" The lady doctor leaned in the doorway with her arms folded.

"I can launch into a tangent about how a grasshopper in Mongolia jumped onto this leaf instead of that leaf and that set off a chain reaction which culminated in me knocking on your front door, or I can say I'm here because I want to be. The choice is yours."

"The short version is fine."

"I figured it would be. Can I have a cup of coffee or am I pushing my luck?"

"It'll be a few minutes. I have to heat some water," she said, disappearing into the kitchen. When she came back out with the coffee her guest was standing at the bookcase looking over her DVD collection.

"Coffee's ready," she said, setting the cup on the table.

"Hmm...Titanic, A Room with a View, every Jane Austen adaptation known to mankind. Chick flicks," said House languidly. "Somehow I'm not surprised."

"I'm not an Evil Dead kind of gal." Cuddy settled into an overstuffed chair while House limped back to the couch.

"Sure you are. You just don't know it yet."

"Why aren't you hanging out with Wilson right now?"

"Wilson's at home playing husband. I think he wants to sleep with me, but I'm not that easy. Besides, I don't think his wife would appreciate that."

"Why don't you ever hang out with your team? Cameron seems to like you."

"Cameron is under the impression that with a little TLC I'll live happily ever after. She needs to get her head out of the clouds. Foreman doesn't like me and Chase despises me. Unfortunately, I think they're both actually smart enough to hide my body where nobody will ever find it."

"So what does all this have to do with me?"

House looked up from his coffee and smiled. "Well, despite your movie collection, you thankfully don't believe in fairytale endings. If you truly despised me you wouldn't have let me in the door. And if you wanted to kill me you would have done it a long time ago."

"Next you're going to tell me I want to sleep with you."

"Maybe you do. But like I said, I'm not that easy."

House chatted with his boss for another forty minutes, then left. He didn't thank her for the coffee, but then again, she hardly expected him to.

After that he would drop by randomly. For a while Cuddy wracked her brain trying to find a pattern to his visits, but gave up when she realized there wasn't one to find. Sometimes he would visit three nights in a row, sometimes two weeks would go by before he showed up again. The only thing consistent about House's visits was time. He would always show up between seven and eight and always leave around midnight. She soon found herself more drawn to his bright blue eyes and razor-sharp banter with each visit. By the end of summer they were calling each other Greg and Lisa instead of House and Cuddy.

Much to Cuddy's surprise, House would sometimes have sporadic conversations with her on everything from politics to books to the pros and cons of cat ownership. One night she called him on it.

"Any other time you run from conversation like a vampire from the sun."

"So?"

"So why the sudden interest in talking to another human being?"

"You're one of the three people in the world I can actually have a real conversation with, Lisa," he answered.

"The other two being...?"

"It doesn't matter." He was quiet for a few seconds then said, "I keep waiting for you to tell me to stop coming by."

"I don't mind you coming by, Greg."

"Okay. Just checking."

In all of House's visits there were two incidents that stood out in her mind. One was the first time he kissed her. It was Halloween night. Grudgingly, he had helped her pass out candy to the kids and threw in a few snarky remarks for free: "Here ya go, kids. Don't eat the wrapper. It's bad for you." Later they settled in and watched cheesy old horror movies until midnight. As he was leaving, he suddenly stopped and turned around as if he had forgotten something. He put his hands on her shoulders, pulled her close, and gently kissed her. Then he turned and left without a word, leaving her standing by the door, tasting his kiss.

Next was the first time they slept together two weeks later. Cuddy figured it stood in his mind as much as hers for one reason: It was Cuddy who had seduced him and not the other way around.