Author's Note (Part One): Thanks so much for the continued reviews, reads and story alerts... they make me super happy! Sorry this took forever. I went on (a very short) holiday. More exposition... no weepiness. I didn't want to write it just yet, so I decided to save it for next time. Hope you like it! Also, I wish I owned the rights to House, but I don't.

Chapter 6

A loud buzzing filled the room and James Wilson stirred languidly. He turned over, groping blindly for the off button on his alarm clock before successfully turning it off. He opened his eyes reluctantly and passed a hand over his chin, deciding that there wasn't enough hair there to waste energy shaving. He reached over to grab the bottle of scotch on his bedside table only to realize it wasn't there. Figuring his sister had moved it, for whatever reason, he climbed out of bed and padded toward the bedroom door. Remembering that Jules was sleeping on the couch, he quietly opened it and stepped into the hall. Even from a distance he could make out the bottles she had collected and placed on the coffee table, so many that they obscured her slumbering form from his view. Knowing that she would want to talk and desperately wanting to avoid the conversation, Wilson decided it would be best to throw on some clothes and head to the hospital before Juliana woke up.

"House. House. House," Cuddy said forcefully while shaking House's shoulder. He remained unmoved by the action; still snoring, deep asleep. House had passed out on her sofa thanks to the amount of alcohol he had consumed the night earlier. She frowned at the spot his drool left on her upholstery, but was thankful he hadn't gotten sick. "House!" she yelled as she smacked his arm.

He stirred and groaned loudly. "What time is it?"

"6:30," she said hands on her hips, continuing to stand over him, waiting for him to move.

"It's practically the break of dawn. I'm trying to sleep one off, Nurse Ratched," he whined, squinting at the light overhead.

"If you want a ride to pick up your bike, then you better get up and get ready. I'm leaving in forty-five minutes." She shoved him again for good measure.

"You're so annoying sometimes. At least when Wilson wakes me up he cooks for me," House complained, fully opening his eyes, sitting up. He yawned and rubbed his face, glancing up at Cuddy for the first time that morning. She was fresh out of the shower and smelled of coconut, her hair still wet and her robe clung to her slightly. He took a moment to appreciate her form and thought about what it might be like waking up to the sight every morning before shoving the thought to the back of his mind.

"I'm not Wilson."

"That's true. You've got a much nicer rack."

She smiled and shook her head, "Forty-five minutes, House. I left you a set of towels in the guest bathroom." Before he could suggest she join him, Cuddy had set off down the hall to get dressed.

Dun, Dun-nah-nah, Dun-nah-nah. The opening guitar riff of AC/DC's "Back in Black" started again, rousing Jules from her sleep. She dug in the couch cushions a good minute and a half before finding her phone and turing off the alarm. Inhaling deadly, she rose from the sofa and stumbled toward the kitchen, carried by the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

"Wil, do you care if I swipe some coffee?" she yelled. When he didn't respond, she figured he couldn't hear her and grabbed a mug from the cabinet by the stove. She saw his note on the counter beside the coffee maker.

Jules-

Went in early, needed to get some work done. Made you some coffee. There's a leftover Belgium Waffle in the microwave with your name on it. Syrup's in the pantry.

See you later, Wil

She knew he had gone in early, not to do work, but avoid her. Sighing, she poured herself a cup of coffee and punched thirty seconds on the microwave. Juliana had hoped they would be able to sit down that morning, have a heart-to-heart; he would promise to stop drinking and she would be relieved. Unfortunately, it was going to be harder than that. She was going to have to follow him to work and hunt him down so they could have it out in his office.

"House! I'm leaving in five minutes! What could be taking you so long in there?" Cuddy yelled, banging on the bathroom door. Suddenly, it swung open and House stepped out, nearly standing on top of her. She stood there for a moment, startled by his sudden appearance and the proximity of their bodies.

"Do you mind?" he asked, eyebrows raised. She stepped aside, allowing him to limp past her, toward the couch where he began putting on his shoes. "With the way you were standing there, I thought you were push me into the bathroom and have your way with me."

"In your dreams," she said, blushing slightly. Cuddy picked up her purse, planner and keys from the table by the front door. "I'll be in the car. Just pull the door shut, it should lock behind you."

He mumbled a quick "okay" in response as she left the house. House finished trying his laces, stood up, threw on his jacket, grabbed his cane and headed toward the door. Before he departed, a small piece of white paper on the edge of the entryway table caught his eye.

Call me sometime.

609-739-9626

Rory

Greg balled up the number and shoved it deep in his pocket, deciding to dispose of it when he got to the hospital. He smiled mischievously as he hobbled out the front door towards Cuddy's car.

Twelve minutes after searching for James' set of spare keys, Juliana found them among the liquor bottles on the coffee table. She slipped on her sandals and picked up her purse before heading outside. Greeting the cab driver, Jules climbed into the back seat, hoping she would have a chance to talk to Wil before any of his patients came in.

"You know you wasted a perfectly good opportunity last night. I was drunk and completely defenseless, you could have taken advantage of me," House joked as they passed the pub.

Cuddy laughed. "Hey, where'd you leave your bike? I thought you parked it in front of the bar."

"I did."

She pulled over to the curb. "Well, it's not here now."

House flung open the car door and limped to the space where he last saw his motorcycle. "Great! Somebody stole my bike! If you would have just let me drive--"

"You would have killed yourself!" She reached in her purse and found her cell phone. "I'll call the police."

"Fat lot of good that will do. Those idiots couldn't find their asses with two hands and a map!" While she was talking to the police she watched House continued to grumble and pace furiously on the sidewalk.

"Okay, thanks." Cuddy sighed as she shut her phone and rolled down the window. "Get back in the car."

"We've got to wait for the po-po to show."

"Your bike wasn't stolen; it was towed."

"Towed?!" he screamed, crossing the street.

"You didn't have a permit or a plate. I guess they assumed that a handicap person couldn't ride a motorcycle."

After letting a few choice curse words fall from his lips, House directed his anger at Cuddy. "This is all your fault! If you would have--"

"House, shut up and get in the car." She watched as he rounded the car in a huff, moodily plopped in the front seat and slammed the door. "I'll take you to get it after work."

"How much is this shit going to cost me?"

"You only have to pay to get the car out of impound. They will drop the fine for parking in a handicap spot since I assured them that you were handicapped and that, as your doctor, I would fax them a letter confirming your condition. They suggested you update your tag so you can avoid similar situations in the future."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"150 dollars."

"I shouldn't have to pay anything! I am handicapped!"

"You have to have a permit or a plate to park there. You had neither. You're lucky that they're not making you pay the 600 dollar fine and the 150 impound fee."

"It's ridiculous! They--"

"I'll pay the fee if you stop complaining about it!"

House glowered at her, but agreed with a terse, "Fine."

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the hospital.

Lisa parked the car in her space, the closest non-handicap one to the elevator on the first floor of the parking deck. She leaned over, reaching behind her seat (unknowingly giving House a first-rate view of her cleavage) and snatched her things. She had no intention to wait for House, subjecting herself to more of his bad mood. The sight of Cuddy's breasts at such a close perspective lifted House's spirits briefly. Although she shut her door and quickly walked to the elevator, House was close behind her. He managed to make it to the lift just as the elevator arrived. Cuddy sighed loudly as they stepped inside and the door shut behind them.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to ditch me," he said grumpily.

"Hard to imagine why. You're such a ray of sunshine today."

"I've got a hangover and my bike was stolen."

"Impounded."

"Whatever."

Juliana paid the cab driver, thanked him and entered the lobby of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, making a beeline for the elevators. She pushed the call button and after a few seconds, the lift to her right arrived. The doors opened and she found herself face-to-face with a frustrated Lisa Cuddy and a surly Greg House. He glared at her as she stepped in, clearly unhappy with her presence. Juliana turned and hit the fourth floor button even though it was already lit.

"Good morning, Lisa," she said brightly.

"Morning, Jules," Cuddy replied with a smile.

"House," she said coldly.

She heard him exhale and tap his cane on the floor violently before speaking, "Let's get something straight--"