"You're late," Cuddy said.

"And you're a woman, but I don't feel the need to point that out every day," House retorted as he limped to elevator.

"What's your excuse this time?" Cuddy asked, following him.

"The dog ate my homework."

"Am I really supposed to believe that?"

"Do you?"

"Not hardly."

"It sounds better than being jumped by a bunch of Amish kids for my lunch money." House turned and smiled as he pushed the 'up' button. "You asked for an excuse, you didn't ask for a good excuse."

"I guess I walked right in to that one," she said thickly with a faint grin.

"Tomorrow I'll say that my alarm didn't go off, my motorcycle wouldn't start, and my tires were slashed. Does that sound better?"

"You have clinic duty today," Cuddy said, tapping her foot and ignoring his sarcasm.

"I'm thrilled."

"You owe me three more hours after today."

"Again, I'm thrilled. If you don't mind I'll just save up all my excitement over clinic duty until the end of the week," he deadpanned. "I wouldn't want to overload myself right now and blow a fuse or two."

The elevator dinged and opened. House stepped in. Cuddy stopped the door.

"My patients are waiting," he said, though they both knew he could care less if he actually had a patient or not.

"Two hours of clinic duty today, Dr. House," she told him in her best authoritative voice, "and three more by Friday."

"Yes, boss." With his cane, he carefully pushed her away from the door. "Don't eat too much cheesecake for lunch and ruin your appetite for me." He winked as the door slid shut.


Cuddy spent the rest of the day in a blur of files, phone calls, and running from one department to another. Patients wanted this, doctors wanted that, and they all wanted it five minutes ago. It was after six o'clock before she could leave. Her shoes felt like torture devices. She got caught in after-church traffic and had to laugh or else punch out the windshield.

He answered the door right away, as if he had been standing there for hours, waiting to hear that familiar knock.

She stalked right by him and into the kitchen. He watched quietly as she poured a scotch, drank it in one gulp and poured another.

"Playing hooky doesn't sound so bad now, does it?" House smirked as he capped the scotch and shoved it back in the cabinet.

"Maybe being a responsible adult all the time isn't such a good thing. Everyone wanted something from me today. Everyone! Why does it always have to happen at once? Where do all these people come from?" She threw back the second scotch and scowled.

"The woodwork. The walls. They just fall out of the sky."

"I'm beginning to believe it."

"Wanna play hooky tomorrow?" House had to ask. "I promise not to tell anyone."

"Can't." She scowled again. "I have a meeting, then another meeting, and, oh yeah, a meeting."

"The joys of being in charge," the diagnostician said with amusement, the job of running the entire hospital was not something he ever wanted. Looking after three other doctors was about all he could handle. Being in charge of everything and everyone was enough to give him nightmares.

"Everyone turns to me," she muttered with a tired smile. "Whether I actually have the answer or not."

"Poor Dr. Cuddy. Being good at your job is such a bitch. Take a cue from me every now and then and just say 'to hell with it.'"

"I'll keep that in mind." Cuddy gave him a genuine smile and slipped her arms around him. "Let's play."

"Play what?"

She took a step back and ripped his shirt open to the belt. "You tell me."