I've been feeling a little under the weather so in between watching some House (working my way through every episode starting from The Pilot just for fun because that's what we House addicts do, right?), I had time to finish and edit this chapter and start on the next chapter.

….and this chapter is why I changed the rating of this fanfic. Enjoy some Huddy love!

Chapter 62:

At the end of January, the next week after the pre-trial, which was held the previous Friday, House was in his office with Cameron and Foreman on that Tuesday morning, discussing their patient from the previous week who had been suffering from sudden loss of motor function and onset of seizures.

"I gave him ten milligrams of Diazepam to stop the seizures," Foreman said, as he scanned the file.

"How long has he had the rash?" House asked, suddenly, as he stared at the whiteboard and took a sip of coffee from his red mug.

He looked around at his two team members who said nothing.

"What rash?" Cameron asked.

"The rash around his groin area," House told them after he took a long sip of coffee. "You guys didn't see it? And you said you did a thorough examination!" He shook his head, frustrated.

"I'm thinking reaction to whatever cream he uses."

"House, that doesn't explain the sudden loss of partial motor function. He can't move his lower extremities. No cream can cause that, even if it was a basic allergy," Cameron told him.

"Check out this guy's home for toxins."

"What if it's not a toxin? House, did you hear what I said? Using cream for a rash does not fit with the paralysis. Even with the allergy, if that's even true."

House looked at Cameron, agitated. "Oh I'm sorry, Dr. Cameron, do you have a better theory? I don't hear you jumping out with any great diagnoses right now. Do you know why? Because we don't know what's wrong with this guy! If I'm right, toxins fit if it's an allergic reaction to whatever groin cream he's using. And you didn't even know about the rash so I hardly think you are in a position to argue -"

Just then, House's pager went off. He glanced down at it. Clinic Rm 4. ASAP. – Cuddy.

Frowning, House clipped the pager back on his jeans and faced his team. "Home. Toxins. Go."

Once he was in the clinic, House stood outside the door to exam room 4, which had the blinds shut, and knocked, extremely curious as to why Cuddy would page him to do his clinic hours. She usually just nagged him about them in person.

"Come in," said a female voice.

House pushed the door open.

Sitting on the exam room table was Cuddy, her brown skirt hiked to the middle of her upper thighs and the top two buttons of her rose-colored maternity blouse undone, exposing the top of her cleavage, which, House observed, was very nicely filling out the light pink laced demi-cup bra she was wearing. Her left hand was resting on her belly. Her curly raven black hair was let down out of its bun, trailing down her back.

Confused, House started to say something. "What are -"

But, he was cut off.

"Lock the door," Cuddy demanded. "And come here."

Obeying, House set his cane down on one of the trays in the corner and limped over to her.

"What's wrong?"

Laying a finger on his lips to silence him, Cuddy pulled him closer to the table where she was sitting and kissed him.

When they broke apart, House smirked, letting his eyes travel down her face.

"My, my Doctor Cuddy, do we have an urgent consult that needs my attention?" he growled in a low voice, before engulfing her lips again, his hands on either side of her face.

Suddenly, he broke off the kiss, pulled over a metal stool, positioned it in front of her and sat down. Pulling the metal stirrups out from either sides of the table, he carefully brought each one out, and slipping Cuddy's black flats off, positioned each foot on the stirrups.

"Lie down," he commanded, in a husky voice. She did as she was told.

Hiking Cuddy's skirt further up her thighs, House felt himself get hard.

She was wearing nothing underneath the skirt.

Indulging himself, House bent forward and ran his mouth along her groin, kissing his way around her neatly trimmed pubic hair.

He thrust two fingers inside her and found moist wetness. As he slowly fingered her, Cuddy's body went rigid and then relaxed. Glancing at her body resting on the exam table and seeing her eyes closed, House grinned, as he listened to her shallow breath sounds.

"I definitely need to do another thorough evaluation," he commented in the husky voice he knows always turns her on.

Working the bottom buttons of her blouse, his fingers worked diligently to undo them, exposing her rounded stomach.

Placing his hands on either side of her pregnant belly, splaying his fingers on either side, he ducked his head and buried himself in between her legs, his mouth delicately caressing her inner upper thighs and nuzzling her pubic hair with his lips.

Cuddy softly whimpered with pleasure as she felt his mouth finally make contact with her clitoris.

He was slow and gentle, wanting to build up to her climaxing. Licking the labia slowly and then moving to the clitoris, he felt Cuddy tense up and give a small cry as she felt the orgasm build up and she couldn't take it.

House quickly took his hand off her stomach and stifled her cry with his hand across her mouth.

"You are a bad girl, Doctor Cuddy. Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to interrupt?" he growled, taking his hand away from her mouth as he ducked between her thighs again.

Slowly playing with her clitoris with his tongue again, House felt Cuddy's body writhe, her thighs shaking. He knew she was close. His tongue explored faster. The small moan turned to a whimper.

"Greg," she moaned. "…ohh!"

Slowing down, House began to kiss her inner thighs again, moving his mouth up to her pelvic bone. Placing both hands on the sides of her belly once more, he planted tiny kisses across the underside of her stomach. Resting his chin lightly on the top of her bump, he looked down at her.

Opening her eyes, she saw House staring at her, his chin resting on the center of her belly. She smiled at him as their eyes locked, green-gray met piercing blue. She took her hand and placed it on top of his on the side of her stomach.

Without saying a word, House slowly helped her up to a seated position, her skirt still hiked up past her thighs.

She closed the gap between them, her hand moved to the back of his neck as she pulled him closer, her mouth on his as their tongues danced together, slowly and possessively in each other's mouths, longing for each other.

"Fuck me, Greg," Cuddy demanded, as she finally pulled back for air. "Now."

Their mouths never separating, Cuddy unbuckled House's belt and undid the zipper as he pushed the jeans and his boxers down around his ankles. He held onto her arms as he stepped out of each pant leg and kicked the jeans off to the side with his foot.

"Hormones?" he mused.

With her lips close to his ear, she whispered, "Greg, just shut up the hell up and fuck me."

After shrugging off his jacket, House wrapped an arm around Cuddy's back and pulled her as close as she could get to the edge of the exam table. As she spread her legs wider, he entered. Slowly.

As their hips grinded together in unison, House captured her mouth in a possessive kiss for he knew she was going to cry out again. He rested his forehead against hers as the kiss finally broke off.

"I'll always love you," he whispered.

Their hips grinded faster, harder, together. "I'm close," he whispered.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Cuddy gritted her teeth in an effort not to yell out with pleasure.

"Oh god, Greg!" She clung to him as she felt herself getting ready to cross the threshold, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades and bearing her face down into his neck. "Ohhh!"

He held her as she climaxed. Her loud moans were stifled by his hand, once again loosely covering her mouth.
Her hands were caressing up and down his back as their bodies remained close to one another, their pelvises in sync as they continued to make love, his rock-hard cock moving in a fast rhythmic pace inside of her wetness.

As they slowed down and caught their breath, House rested his forehead against hers. When he finally pulled out, his hand moved away from her mouth, and his thumb and forefinger caressed her jawbone as his other hand moved down to caress her belly.

Cuddy opened her eyes. "I love you," she whispered as she placed her right hand on top of his on her stomach and her left hand on the side of his face. "I love you so much, Greg."

Moving his lips to her ear, House whispered, "I love you too." He glanced down at his still hard cock.

"I think we're still ready for another round," he murmured, smirking.

Three hours later, House and his team were seated in the conference room, bouncing theories about the same patient from earlier.

The patient had regained some motor function back but not all being as his vocal cords were still un-workable. He had also developed a persistent 102 degree fever. They had kept it down with Ibuprofen, intravenously injected.

"Okay, so it's not a toxin," House deduced.

"He could be faking," Cameron piped up.

Turning to his employee, House rolled his eyes. "What, the paralysis? Yea, he's been faking loss of his motor function since last Thursday. If he's been doing it THAT long, he should get a medal."

"He's lost control of his bowel movements, for Christ's sake," House continued. "And his penis, for God's sake. If he's faking paralysis of the penis, then we're ALL in trouble. Cameron, go have sex with him to make sure he's not faking that!"

"No!" Cameron exclaimed, utterly appalled. "House, that's disgusting! And doesn't penile paralysis only happen in horses?"

"Well, yea," House replied, "that's my exact rationale for him faking it. Last time I checked, our patient wasn't a frisky four legged beast…or is he?"

Rolling their eyes, Cameron and Foreman didn't say anything as House turned back to the board. After about a minute of silence, while still musing over what was written on the whiteboard, House spoke.

"Okay, you're telling me that in the time I was staring at this board in the past minute, not one of you could come up with a cool diagnosis like penile paralysis? What kind of doctors did I hire?!"

Foreman was just about to answer him when a young man in a tan tweed jacket, khakis and an olive green dress shirt walked into the diagnostician's conference room.

"Which one of you is Gregory House?"

House turned upon hearing the unknown voice. "That depends," he said, eyeing the man up and down, "if you want my money or are here to sue me, I'm not him. Oh and the 1960s called. They want their tweed back."

If he was amused by House's statement, the young man did not show it. Without smiling, he withdrew an envelope from the inside of his jacket, handing it over. "Dr. House, you just got served a subpoena."

And without another word, the man turned on his heel and walked away.

House stood there, unmoving and silent. After about two beats of staring at the door where the man had just walked out, he drew his glance to the envelope, flipped it over, and that's when he saw the words 'Mercer County Courthouse, Office of the Clerk' on the envelope in dark red lettering.

Slowly, House opened the envelope, his fingers moving slowly to withdraw the three-folded piece of paper.

Unfolding the sheet of paper, his eyes scanned down the page, his mouth starting to gape open as his eyes narrowed.

When he finished reading, he said nothing. For a moment, he just stared at the piece of paper, willing himself to calm down.

"House, what-" Cameron started to ask, but faltered as his eyes found hers, the anger quite evident in his face.

Angrily, he strode over to the phone on his desk, loudly picked it up to his ear and punched in a phone number and an extension.

Before the voice on the other end had a chance to speak, House said, in the calmest voice that he could muster,

"You need to come up here right now."

He waited, listening to the person on the other line as she refuted.

"I don't care," he shot at her, through gritted teeth, "You need to come up here now!"

And without waiting for another refute, he slammed the phone down.

When Cuddy walked into the conference room adjacent to House's office, what she saw was House standing by the window with his back towards her and his two team members staring wordlessly at him.

Exchanging an equally confused look with Cameron and Foreman, Cuddy stared at House's backside.

"What's going on? You sounded urgent on the phone." She grinned. "Did you want seconds from this morning?" she started to joke, but faltered as she saw House's face as he turned around to face her.

The hand that was grasping his cane was shaking as he nodded his head in the direction of his other hand, trapped in the sling as he gripped a piece of paper between his fingers.

"What's this?" he asked roughly.

Glancing at the piece of paper he was holding, Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "It looks like a piece of paper," she said, slowly, not sure as to what he was getting at.

"Don't be a wise ass."

For a moment, Cuddy didn't speak. "Greg, what is going on?" she finally asked, after a brief hesitation.

House didn't answer her question.

He tried to flatten out the piece of paper but winced as he moved his left arm. Giving up, he leaned his cane against the wall next to the window and switched the paper over to his right hand.

"District Court of New Jersey at Trenton… Lisa Cuddy, plaintiff vs. Robert Chase, defendant. To Gregory House, you are commanded to report in court to testify as a witness in the above case…" He stopped reading down the sheet of paper.

Pausing, he glanced up at her, ready to gauge her reaction. "Shall I continue?"

She waited a beat. "No," she said quietly. She ignored Cameron's and Foreman's gawking. She forced herself to look into House's eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, as his voice rose and he limped closer to her. "I'm no lawyer but I'm pretty sure a plaintiff is the one who presses the charges…" Narrowing his eyes, he paused.

"Can we take this somewhere else?" Cuddy interrupted, not thrilled at having this conversation in front of House's team. House was very surprised to hear her voice still sounded strong.

"No," House told her, bringing his voice slightly below level. "Not until you tell me if you pressed the charges."

"Greg, I really don't want to discuss this in front of your team —"

"It's a simple 'yes' or 'no' question, Lisa! Just answer me for Christ's sake!"

Staying silent, Cuddy stared at him.

He tried again. "Did you or did you not initiate a lawsuit against –"

Cuddy had enough. Exasperated, she threw her hands up in the air.

"Yes!" she cried out, "Yes, I did, okay?!"

House was silent. After about two beats, he forced his voice down to a reasonable level of calmness. "Why?"

Cuddy exhaled, forcing herself to look into his eyes. "I answered your one question," she began, coldly, "Now I would appreciate it once again if we discuss this elsewhere," she snapped quickly.

Grabbing his cane, House strode over to the door that separated his office and conference room and pulled it open, going inside.

Cuddy was still standing in the conference room, not moving. House poked his head out and looked at her.

"Do you need an invitation?" he sneered.

Restraining herself from strangling her boyfriend and employee at the next opportunity, Cuddy narrowed her eyes and followed him into the adjacent office, without glancing behind her to see Cameron and Foreman silently gawking at the pair of them.

When the door to House's office had shut completely, Cameron spoke.

"I think we should go down and help in the clinic."

Foreman didn't need telling twice. "Good idea."

TBC... and don't worry. Next chapter picks up exactly where this left off.

As always, your comments are appreciated.