A/N: I'm sorry about the last few chapters being so short. And I also apologise for all the dialogue in this chapter. But I had fun writing it, so, what the hey? Enjoy. A much longer chapter.

Chapter 5: Sad Conversation

House raised an eyebrow at her. He had not been expecting this. Cuddy had never called on him at his house before. She looked like she didn't know why she was there either. House stepped aside to let her through. She walked up to the kitchen and he followed her. She sat down on a kitchen stool, silently.

"Drink?" House offered. She nodded.

"Just water, thanks." Neither of them had broached the subject of why she was there yet. House poured her some water and poured some soda for himself. Both of them were mutually taking precautions with drink.

"So." House sat down next to her. "Why are you here?"

Cuddy took a sip of water before answering him.

"I just wanted company," she said innocently.

"And so you came to me?" he asked, astonished.

"Yeah. I wanted to talk."

"Not about…?"

"No. Just to talk to a friend."

"You consider me a friend?" he asked, surprised.

"Of sorts," she replied. "Anyway, we agreed that that thing… it never happened."

"Yeah," he snorted. "But it did."

"House," she warned.

"Sorry." He drained his glass. "I'll admit, I need somebody to talk to as well. I was gonna call Wilson."

"You haven't told him, have you?" she demanded, horrified.

"No. Of course I haven't." They were silent. "So. What do you want to talk about?" He tapped his fingers on his glass.

"Well, we could be incredibly sad and talk about our interests," she suggested. House burst out laughing.

"All right. You're on. Who's gonna go first?"

"You," she decided. Would it be too sad if I asked you what your favourite colour is?"

"Why Dr. Cuddy; this whole conversation is going to be sad. Anyway, it's blue."

"Ha! I knew it."

"How?" he demanded.

"Oh come on, House. I'm not colour blind. All your clothes are blue."

"They're called jeans," he accused. "That's the only colour they come in."

"Oh, I don't know. I've seen some pretty sexy ones in black." House raised his eyebrows.

"Right. So, what's yours? Black then?"

"Green."

"Nice. My turn to ask. What's your favourite movie?"

"It is Gone With the Wind," she stated proudly.

"Chick flick," House spotted dismissively. Mine is the Terminator."

He didn't look at her while he said it and when he did his eyes were different somehow. Cuddy recognized that and she grinned.

"You're bluffing," she accused him.

"You're bluffing. What makes you think I'm lying?"

"I can tell when you're lying, House. You've been working for me for almost nine years."

"OK," he admitted. "You really want to know?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Over there, the third DVD from the left on the fourth shelf in the bookcase next to the TV."

Cuddy got up from her stool and began to walk towards the television slowly. She took each step deliberately, maybe just to annoy House.

"The real question is," Cuddy said. "Is why would you lie?" She took more steps closer to the bookcase. House winced as she reached it.

"Sleepless in Seattle!" she exclaimed. Then she burst out laughing. "I never would have picked it." She returned to her seat next to House. "Favourite band."

"Ooh, tough one." He had recovered from his embarrassment. "It'd have to be… The Beatles. You?"

"The Police," she said. He snorted. "I have my reasons."

"OK." He was smiling brightly, so unlike House. "So, what's next? Am I allowed to ask a different kind of question?"

"Your house," she said.

"I am." He winked at her.

"I would have thought that joke had run dry in your Elementary School years."

"It did. Ready for the question?" She nodded. "Have you ever been involved with someone who you were serious with?"

Cuddy paused. She thought for a second.

"Yes," she said. "I was 25. Mike was 28. We went out for two years before I moved in with him. After one year I was thinking about marriage. Obviously he wasn't though. He cheated."

House nodded.

"Jerk. What was it? Polka? Monopoly?"

"It's a delicate subject, House," she explained, irritably. "I don't even know why I told you. I can't even remember why I came to you for help."

"Help?" He was confused.

"To talk," she corrected herself angrily.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. His sincerity was genuine, Cuddy was surprised to find. "Do I really need to tell you about my relationships?"

"Stacy?" she asked. He nodded. "No, it's OK. I'm betting yours is a sensitive subject too?"

"I'm a man," he protested. "I don't have sensitive subjects."

"Sleepless in Seattle?" she demanded incredulously.

"The Police?" he mimicked her tone of voice sarcastically.

"Let's call a truce," she said.

"Again?" he asked.

"Don't bring that up," she pleaded.

"As you wish. You want another drink?"

"No. I'm all right."

Then he leaned towards her and kissed her. The kiss was light and gentle and Cuddy kissed him back. They broke away smoothly and slowly.

"Are you trying to get me into bed again?"

"Do you want me to get you into bed again?"

"No." He kissed her again. "Yes."

"That's more like it," he said. "You know the way. I'll be right behind you."

He grabbed his cane and followed her into the bedroom.