Cuddy awoke with a start to the sound of a startling bang emanating from House's bedroom; "Oh crap!" she exclaimed as she looked at her watch, discovering that it had been 5 hours since she'd last checked on him.

She threw the blanket off of her body and made her way quickly down the hall. 'What if he's fallen out of bed?' she thought hurriedly as she swung round the doorframe to his bedroom, only to come into direct contact with the sleepy man.

"Oomph!" House grunted, stumbling as Cuddy ran straight into him, forcing him to grab hold of her shoulder in an attempt to stay upright. "What's the rush?" he groaned as he tripped clumsily over to the bed to sit down; he decided that it had been a bad idea thinking he'd make it to the bathroom without his cane, as his leg protested at all this unwanted movement.

"I heard a bang – I thought something had happened" Cuddy explained breathlessly as she visually checked him over; he still looked and sounded like crap – but at some point while she was sleeping, he'd managed to change into a fresh pair of sweats and a dry t shirt. 'Maybe he's not as idiotic as you thought he was' she noted.

"I just shut my window – bloody freezing in here" he moaned groggily, cradling his abdomen; Cuddy had slammed into the wrong place, exactly where he was most tender. "and I was trying to get to the bathroom before you brutally assaulted me" he added, taking the time to really saviour the fact that Cuddy was standing before him wearing just a t shirt and panties, better still – she didn't seem to notice because she seemed to be more interested in checking him out.

"Ever considered modelling for Victoria's Secret?" he growled seductively, although he wasn't feeling particularly amorous right at that moment in time due to his sore ribs, sore throat, sore leg...sore everything!

"House!" she scolded as she self-consciously grabbed the nearest object to cover herself up. Unfortunately, the closest object happened to be the jeans that he'd haphazardly thrown on the floor whilst he was desperately trying to get his body temperature to stop torturing him. Nonetheless, she held them over her lower body with her good hand and frowned when he seemed to pout at this.

"Yeah, that's definitely less sexy" he announced huskily, pulling himself gingerly off the bed and motioning for her to pass him his cane. She leant over and scooped it off the floor, turning around in time to catch him practically leering over her butt.

"Don't think for one second that I won't punish you in the worst way imaginable if you dare tell anyone about this" Cuddy warned as she stood dangerously close to him. House fought the urge to smirk, knowing that he was probably only seconds away from getting slapped. How was he supposed to not look at her when she was walking around in next to nothing and bending over in front of him?

Suddenly, their attention was grabbed by the front door, which had just slammed shut. The urge to smirk had now turned into the need to smile evilly as House heard the unmistakable sound of Wilson jangling his keys and clearing his throat, probably wondering where they both were.

"Is that Wilson?" Cuddy hissed as she attempted to hide behind the bedroom door; House nodded in reply, still grinning, and made to walk out of the room. Cuddy grabbed his arm "he can't see me like this – not in your room" she whispered anxiously, much to House's amusement. Was the possibility of people thinking they were together really that bad?

He decided to do her a favour and take care of Wilson himself. He limped out of the room, pointing to the bathroom door on the way down the corridor. Cuddy pressed her head against the doorframe, dreading what lies she might hear House bragging about to his best friend. She seen him point to the bathroom door, 'I can't just wander over there – he'll see me you idiot' she thought angrily.

"Where's Cuddy?" she heard Wilson ask, obviously seeing the blanket sprawled on the floor and wondering where the hell she was hiding.

"Bathroom, showering or something – make me some coffee" House replied gruffly as he led the Oncologist through to the kitchen.

This allowed Cuddy the chance she needed to dart from the bedroom to the bathroom, her heart still racing from the fear of getting caught in House's room wearing just a skimpy t shirt and underwear.

She ran a bath, figuring that she may as well take stay in here to avoid having to explain to Wilson why House was getting sicker instead of recovering. Technically, it wasn't her fault at all; but blaming the cripple with broken ribs for getting ill just seemed…mean.

Lowering herself into the tub, without getting her cast wet, she cursed House for appearing not to have any nice soaps or bathing salts. 'Typical man' she thought irritably whilst attempting to keep her hair from getting wet; it was almost a certainty that he didn't own a hairdryer.

House sunk onto one of the kitchen chairs while Wilson made his coffee; it hadn't gotten by his friend that House looked considerably worse than he had in the hospital last night and he seemed to be suffering from a nasty sounding cold. He would have preferred to grill Cuddy about his state of health, but since she wasn't around…"You look terrible" he observed.

"Probably because I feel like crap" House stated bluntly as he rummaged through the bag that Cuddy had brought in last night, trying to find anything that resembled food. "Ha, knew she cared" he said triumphantly as he pulled out several glossy celebrity magazines.

"Err, I think they're probably for herself" Wilson decided, not being able to grasp why any man would want to read that trash.

"Pfft, Cuddy doesn't read this crap" House mumbled as he became engrossed in who was 'hot' and who was 'not' in the land of TV soaps this month.

"So what's up?" Wilson asked as he searched around for a clean teaspoon.

"That weird girl from General hospital apparently…" House replied distractedly as he brought the magazine closer to analyse the pictures.

"No, what's up with you?" It would be easier getting blood from a stone.

"Broken ribs, coupled with a cold…not a great combination" House admitted without taking his eyes off the page.

"Symptoms?"

"You're questioning my diagnosis of a cold?" House asked disbelievingly as he looked up from the magazine, "cool"

"I was just wondering-"

"-Being the concerned friend" House mocked before throwing the magazine down; "fever, cough, headache and one hell of a sore throat – as if you couldn't have guessed"

"See, that wasn't so hard" Wilson said, passing the mug of coffee across the table as though it were a reward and ignoring the coughing fit that he assumed was being put on for his entertainment. He waited for House to start drinking his coffee before he asked "Have you been taking you antibiotic?"

House put the mug down and threw his hands up in the air, "why is everyone treating my like I'm an idiot?" he sighed, "believe it or not – I am capable of taking my own medication without constant reminding!" Wilson deduced that maybe it wasn't the first time he'd been asked that question, judging by the over-the-top, exasperated reaction.

"Think maybe we should add 'irritability' to your list of symptoms?" came the next cheeky question.

"Maybe you can add it after I shove my cane up your-"

"I better get back to work" Wilson announced, wisely cutting House off before he could get too graphic. "I'll come by tomorrow – see how you're doing then."

"If you must" House mumbled, "but bring food" he added as an afterthought.

Once Wilson had left, House dragged himself back to his bedroom; stopping by at the bathroom door to see if he could annoy his boss some more. He could hear her splashing around inside, obviously making the most of his hot water.

"You can come out now, he's gone" he grinned wickedly as he realised something - "Did you take a towel in there with you?" he asked, the little devil sitting on his shoulder already knowing the answer.

Cuddy froze, not only had she had to take the worst bath in history due to the fact that House didn't seem to own any bathing products, but now he was telling her that there wasn't even a towel in here. "Why wouldn't you have a towel in your bathroom?" she whined accusingly, if she didn't know better, she'd swear he'd planned this all along.

"Relax, I'll get you one" he chuckled as he limped into his bedroom, to the closet. Being happy didn't seem to agree with his cold though, and chuckling brought on another bout of uncontrollable coughing. He'd never felt pain like it before; this was ten times worse than earlier.

Every time his abdominal muscles contracted with another cough, he felt like he was being brutally impaled on a rather large skewer.

"Shit" he wheezed as he was forced to grab hold of the edge of his bed in a blind panic when he felt his legs giving way; he groaned as he felt himself slipping, he didn't even have a chance to call out to Cuddy before he passed out from the pain and collapsed in a heap on his bedroom floor...

Author's Note: See, when you're prescribed 'bed rest and antibiotics', make sure you take bed rest and antibiotics – don't overexert yourself by wandering around your apartment and laughing at other people's misfortune 'cos karma will get ya! I feel so mean now; I've left House collapsed on the floor of his bedroom, and I've left poor Cuddy in his bathtub waiting for him to bring her a towel…I'd better update soon hadn't I? x