She felt like her skin was on fire. Her curved back was burning from the warmth of his chest, sandwiched so close together. Even if he was an ass some of the time, ok, most of the time, it didn't matter now. Now, they shared a private world that nobody could intrude upon. She sighed, content.

"That good?"

Her fingers rubbed over the back of his, turning her head just enough so that she could see his outline.

"Yes."

He nods, trailing touches down her tummy, feeling her squirm as he dips them temptingly between her legs. Instead of lingering there his hand slides down her thigh, smirking as she breathes again.

Her elbow pokes him, "Don't tease me."

He grunts a laugh, "Won't happen again."

"It had better happen again."

"Make up your mind, woman."

"Or what?" Slithering around in his arms, she pushed herself up in his face, "What'll you do, tough guy?"

Raising his eyebrows a little, he returns her level gaze for a moment before speaking.

"Nothing." Her eyes narrow, watching him momentarily, before settling back against the pillow and his side, smiling.

They cling together, eventually falling asleep, a madness of tangled bodies and souls.


The clamouring alarm clocks digital speaker was not the way either of them wanted to wake up. House whipped his hand down on top of the beast, silencing it with violence, before letting out a groan into the pillow. She rubbed a hand over his back, smiling sleepily and pressing closer to him, nose to nose. His lips curl, just enough to indicate awareness.

"Good morning." The kiss is slow, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth a fraction, arms cuddling him. Smoothing her tongue over his lip, she hums, wishing that the day could consist of nothing more than this.

As the kiss breaks he grunts non-committally, but the muscles of his arm flex, laying it closer to her back, encouraging the closeness. She decides that while he might not be a morning person, he is an incredibly adorable person, at least before his brain turns on.

"Sleep. I'll wake you before I go." Placing a kiss upon his shoulder, she eases herself from his side, feeling a soreness in her thighs that aches pleasingly, a reminder of last night's activities. Stretching slowly, she pads silently from the room, closing the door to the bathroom and letting the shower run while she washes her face. Steam fogs the mirror before her, slowly obscuring her unadorned beauty.

The shower was better than she imagined, leaving her clean, fresh and warm. Tying her hair back, she returns to the scene of the crime, finding discarded clothes and quickly putting them on. Well after nine, she was already overdue, though conveniently it looked like her boss would be late. Leaving him asleep, she decided not to head straight to work. If it was his plan to get things out in the open, he would just have to come up with something a little more obvious.


It was early afternoon before she headed upstairs, having spent the morning (what little of it there was by the time she arrived) in the clinic. Chase barely acknowledged her entrance, while Foreman gave her a customary nod. Dropping into her seat she began sorting the mail, a pleasingly mindless task which occupied her all of ten minutes. It was going to be a boring day.

"So where's House?" Chase didn't even look up from the crossword that occupied him. Foreman simply shrugged again.

"Didn't show up this morning." His eyes drilled into her, cocky smile firmly in place. Rolling her eyes at him she calmly extracted a novel from her desk and sat pretending to read it. What could Foreman possibly know. They had left together but surely that wasn't enough for him to suspect anything. Trying to push the thoughts from her mind, she concentrates her attention on the hard boiled thriller.


Unfortunately, the reason for their bosses absence kept flitting through her mind. Thinking about him was... highly distracting. Sighing, she grabbed the phone, dialling his number and listening to the ringtone. Picking up, she had definitely woken him up, he grunted.

"House? Did you forget about work? Are you coming in?"

He whines, "Do I have too?"

"Well, I don't know your job description exactly, but it seems likely that there would be something in there about doing some work." Such a child.

His grunt is barely audible, "House? Are you still there?"

"Yeah. Just... my leg hurts." She sniggers, feeling as pleased as if he had given her a raise.

"Sounds like that's your fault, not the hospital's, so are you coming in or not?"

"Do we have a case?"

"No, but-"

His voice was coolly insistent, "Then I'm not coming." There was a beep and she was left holding a dead line. She stared at the phone for a second before replacing it on its cradle.

Foreman was the first to speak, "He hang up?"

Glancing over, she nods, trying to look suitably irritated, "Apparently his leg hurts."

"Like that's different to any other day," Chase, it seemed, had been paying attention, "If he's not coming, I'm not staying."

Picking up his satchel, the blonde turned, departing without another word. The remaining fellows watched him depart.

Cameron spoke first, "What was that all about?"

Foreman smirked, prompting an interrogatory stare, "Foreman?"

Grinning and shaking his head, he walked over pulling a chair from the end of the conference table to her desk. Perching on the edge he looks out from under his brows at her, the perfect imitation of House. When it became obvious that she wasn't going to crack and confess all, he shook his head a little.

"I hear that you had another date with House."

Her gob smacked expression was hidden well, but not well enough, "What? From who?"

"From a nurse downstairs. Said you and House were fairly cosy in the sleep lab last night." There was no way anybody could have seen them, the door had no window and they would have seen anybody coming in. Wing it.

"House bought me dinner for making me spend all night here!"

The smug look on his face was infuriating, "Nurse said you didn't spend all night here. She said that you asked another nurse to check on the patient and that you left with House."

Cameron stared at him open mouthed, praying she was giving off an air of disbelief.

"I left because House told me to. There was nothing wrong with John's sleep patterns so he said to go home." She shrugged, frowning askance at her colleague.

Foreman tries to look serious, nodding, "That sounds reasonable," before inquisitively enquiring, "And the hickey on your neck?"

She scoffs "Do you really expect me to fall for that? Wouldn't be a very good doctor if I missed bruised skin on my own neck."

Foreman claps his hands together, whipping his phone out and flicking it open.

"I'll prove it to you. Turn around and lift up your hair." Oh god, could House have really given her a hickey? This is ridiculous. But she can't see a way out, refusal would be an indication of guilt, and she can't walk around with her back to walls all day.

Sighing deeply, she turns, muttering "Fine," under her breath, carefully pulling her pony tail to the side, the incriminatingly fake shutter sound of the phone her death knell.

She turns, snatching the phone from his hand to stare at the picture, the damning evidence.

That asshole!


Author's Note: Stihl seaking beater two halp wif mai spell'ing and granma. And also because, much like House, I find it difficult to work without a team to bounce ideas off. Plus you're all such nice, wonderful, kind people that I feel obliged to abuse you for personal gain. Mwahahahaha! *cough* Sorry.