...Still in Vegas...

Chapter 94:

With Cuddy by his side, House limped up to the bar in the Mandalay Bay Ballroom, that was transformed from a lecturing space into an elegant banquet hall, with a wooden dance floor and a stage.

"Johnny Walker black. Make it a double. Rocks," he told the bartender.

"Just a water. Thanks," Cuddy added.

As the bartender went to make their drinks, House's gaze lingered on Cuddy, who eyed him skeptically.

"What?"

"You look good," he said simply, especially loving the way her raven hair was pulled up and away from her face in a messy bun.

Cuddy blushed, but appreciated the compliment nonetheless. "Thank you," she said sheepishly.

Leaning up against the bar, House surveyed the massive crowd of cocktail dresses, evening gowns and dark suits.

Waiters coming around with endless platters of little napkins and hors-d'oeuvres such as puff pastries delicacies of beef wellington, and cherry tomato and mozzarella skewers; there were small high top tables set strategically around the room for guests to cluster around with their appetizers and drinks to make small talk, while they weren't dancing on the enormous wooden dance floor that sat in the middle of the room.

The atmosphere was complete with a five-piece band, illuminating the stage, with a guitar player who was also the lead singer, a keyboardist, a saxophone player and a bass player, along with a drummer.

"No name tag?" Cuddy mused.

"Nah, took it off."

"...Because no one knows who you are, anyway," Cuddy added dryly.

Rolling his eyes, he accepted his drink from the bartender.

"No one can talk to me," he replied.

"Oh please, like that's going to stop anybody."

House took a sip of his scotch. Satisfied, he lowered the glass from his lips, and noticed David Lippman walking towards them, and he nodded his head.

"Dave just walked in, with I'm presuming his wife," he told Cuddy.

Cuddy turned he head just as Dave approached them.

"Lisa, Greg," Dave said, in a manner of pleasantries, as he reached the two of them. He gave Cuddy a kiss on the cheek and shook House's hand.

"Hi Dave," Cuddy replied, "how are you?"

"Good, good. This is my wife Charlotte. Charlotte, Lisa Cuddy and Greg House," Dave replied, in a manner of polite introductions.

After shaking Cuddy's hand, Charlotte Lippman said, "Lisa, I cannot apologize enough for what happened earlier today."

Cuddy smiled. "Don't worry about it. Really. It's fine," she told the other woman.

"And you didn't have to have your son apologize," she added.

"Yes, well, I was being a good respectable parent, what can I say?" Charlotte replied.

Cuddy smiled.

"So, where'd you go after Greg's talk?" she asked, turning to Dave.

"Oh I wandered into my colleague's talk about pediatric infectious diseases."

"Great presentation," he told House. "Fascinating that there are still malaria cases out there that get to be so tricky."

House did not respond. He was eyeing a waiter who was carrying a platter of pierces of steak on French bread with horseradish sauce.

"Earth to House. Stop eyeing the food," Cuddy scolded him.

"But I'm hungry,.." House whined.

Cuddy ignored him, instead, turning to Dave.

"So, how's Newark Beth Israel's management system these days?"

An hour later, House was almost done with his fourth drink, and at the moment, he and Cuddy were out on the dance floor, swaying to the band's rendition of The Beatles' 'In My Life'.

"There are two men over there who have been watching us for about a half hour," House told Cuddy.

"First off, we haven't been here for a half hour," Cuddy said, pointing to the dance floor they were currently occupying. "And second, I don't think they've been watching us for a whole half hour!"

"They were watching us while we were talking Dave. What do they want?"

Cuddy looked at him, amused. "Well if knew that, I would tell you, wouldn't I?"

"Noted."

They swayed in silence for a few minutes, House's hands gripping her hips, as his cane was tucked between his body and arm.

"See? This isn't too bad," Cuddy spoke up.

"No, it's not because I'm sufficiently drunk...or close to it." House caressed Cuddy's hip bone through the dress material. "Oh by the way, did I mention you look stunning?"

Cuddy blushed. "You did, but thank you. Again."

"Yeah, it's not too bad. I walked into some talk on some infectious disease thing," House told her.

"See? I knew you would find your element some time!"

As the song ended and they exited the floor, Cuddy turned to House.

"Aren't you going to see what they want?" she asked him, jerking her head in the two men's' direction.

House looked over at them before answering.

"Well yeah, but not before not getting a drink, I'm not."

Once he had gotten his scotch, House limped around the area of the dance floor, until he met the two men, who had been watching him and Cuddy from across the room.

"Gentlemen, what can I do for you, seeing as I have seem to have gotten your attention for some time now? I hate to disappoint you both, but I do not have the hots for either of you. I'm sorry," he finished.

The shorter of the gentlemen, with brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard, chuckled. He extended a hand.

"I'm a fan, Dr. House. Nice presentation," he told him. "Jeffrey Stockton. I teach at University of Michigan: Internal Medicine."

House grasped his hand and shook it.

"This is my colleague, Michael O'Neill."

House shook the other man's hand as well.

"So gentlemen, did you flag me down to talk about my presentation? I must say, you are awfully persistent."

The man named 'Stockton' chuckled again.

"Not exactly. We have a proposition for you."

"Which is?" House turned to the other man. "...O'Neill, rings a bell...you didn't happen to teach psychics, oh about twenty two or so years ago, did you?"

O'Neill smiled warmly. "I probably did. Why, did you take my class?"

"Nah, " House replied, "tested out. Your name came up in passing though."

"Lisa Cuddy graduated third of her class at Michigan. I also had her as a student, if that is who you are referring to," O'Neill told him, smiling.

House chuckled. "Someone's done their homework." He turned to Dr. Stockton.

"You were saying?"

Stockton waited two beats then said, "Come lecture for us."

"Excuse me?"

"We want you to come be a guest lecturer in our infectious disease specialty department for medical students. It'll only be for a week a month at most. You are a legend, especially in the medical community at Michigan...we'll put you in an apartment. You can still keep your job at PPTH...And yes," Stockton told him, grinning, "I know you don't like lecturing, but you'll be talking about topics you enjoy."

He paused, gauging House's reaction.

"If you know I hate lecturing, why ask?" House replied, after a second's hesitation.

'Because, you're the best," Stockton told him simply.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," House said, bitingly, after taking a sip of his scotch. "I'll have to clear it with my head honcho to come to Michigan," he continued.

"So you'll do it?"

"I'll think about it," House replied.

"And that's not an automatic 'yes'," he added, defiantly.

"I never implied that it was," Stockton said, dryly.

O'Neill cut in. "You'll bring in a lot for us. People are sure to want to hear you lecture."

"Tempting," House told him, sarcastically.

Before Stockton had a chance to interrupt, House leaned his cane against his hip and extended a hand.

"Look, I'll think about it," he continued, in a manner of closing.

Stockton grinned warmly. "That's all that I ask," he responded, and shook the other doctor's hand.

House turned to O'Neill and shook his hand as well.

"Dr. House, it's been a pleasure," the older man told him.

House turned to Stockton. "I have a feeling someone is going to want to come over and put her two cents in," he said, to which the other doctor smiled.

"By all means, have Dr. Cuddy come on over." He paused.

"I'm assuming that's who you were referring to," he added.

House smirked. "We'll be in touch." He turned to leave.

"Oh, and Doctor House? If you want to wait until the fall to start, that's fine," Stockton told him. "I'm sure the upcoming months will be busy for you."

"So they want you to lecture!?" Cuddy exclaimed, excitedly.

They were standing at one of the high tops, as House was filling Cuddy in on his conversation with the two doctors' from Michigan.

"That's so great! Even though I know you hate lecturing," she added, grinning.

She laid her hand on his arm, rubbing it encouragingly.

"So you think I should do it?" he asked, sincerely.

"I think," Cuddy started, choosing her words carefully, "it would certainly be beneficial. You'll enjoy it. Especially if you get to design the course, pick out the lectures..."

"I'll be in Michigan," he reminded her.

Cuddy smiled a little, knowing the true meaning behind his words. "We'll manage."

"Stockton said I could start in the fall."

"That'll be good. A few months to get everything in order," said Cuddy.

House took her hand in his own, caressing her knuckles. "I told them you may want to go over and talk."

Cuddy leaned over and kissed him on the lips. "You know me so well," she told him jokingly.

House smirked. "That I do."

Just then, Stan Gisner, House's colleague, appeared.

"Hey, you two."

"Hey yourself," Cuddy replied.

"I was just talking to your friend David. Seems like a smart guy. He liked our presentation."

"Yeah, he told me that already," House interrupted them. "Little too 'over enthusiastic' for my liking."

"Oh, stop," Cuddy berated him jokingly. "He's fine. It was a great presentation. Give yourself some credit." She took a sip of her water.

"So, Stan, you headed home tomorrow?" she asked the neurologist.

"Yes, you?"

"Tomorrow morning, yes. We have a little thing at my sister's tomorrow evening."

They continued to make small talk for the next couple of minutes, and then House and Cuddy went out onto the dance floor to dance to the band's rendition of Van Morrison's 'Into the Mystic'.

"So, you think I should go over and talk to them now?" Cuddy said to House, as the song was finishing up.

"I think that would not be a bad idea," House replied, as he caressed her hips through the dress material. His eyes scanned the room and he saw Dr. Stockton standing a few yards away from the bar, conversing with a dark-haired woman. The man looked up and gave a swift nod, to which House returned.

He and Cuddy exited the dance floor, making their way over to the bar.

"Well, here goes nothing," Cuddy said, and she walked towards Dr. Stockton, while House smirked, as he limped up to the bar and ordered another scotch, as he watched Cuddy begin to work her magic.

TBC...