Hi guys,

Here's a new one-shot for the First Times series.

This part is set right after "Babies & Bathwater" last scene (season 1). Circumstance: Good riddance Vogler! ;P. Motive: Grateful (and definitely bantering). First move: House.

I hope you'll like it… :)

A special, big thank you to my pal MystryGAB (whose stories you should definitely check) and who proof-read this one-shot for me. Smooches, I… ;)

** One Hundred Million Dollar Thank You **
First Times series #6

She opened the peephole more out of habit than to really check who was visiting her at this late hour for there was no doubt who that characteristic, rapping knock on her door belonged to.

He grinned boyishly at her when her face appeared behind the bars of the little square hole. She cringed before slamming it shut and then pulled the door wide open, sighing exasperatedly. Her long hair was untied, and messy curls framed her beautiful, sleepy face. As he unabashedly and quite instantly eyed her up and down with an undressing gaze, he noticed her bare feet and the grey, cotton bathrobe that she was wearing loosely wrapped around her slender body, with probably just a flimsy nightie underneath it or, he couldn't help thinking, better still, maybe even nothing...

"House, it's late," Cuddy said, wearily. "I'm not on call and I was about to go to sleep. So, whatever it is that you want to ask me, it'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"You left the party quite early," he replied, unmoved by her rather cold greeting.

He was standing with his left hand behind his back and suddenly jerked it in front of him, revealing a bottle of champagne that he held out to her in an offering gesture.

"I managed to save this. I thought you'd want to celebrate the metaphorical death of Vogler with me."

"Sorry, I'm not in a celebrating mood," she said drily. "Plus, I don't drink."

"You drank earlier," he reminded her with a smile, trying not to let her apparent grumpiness affect him.

"The exception proves the rule."

"Come on," he prodded, waggling his eyebrows playfully at her and shaking the bottle closer to her face. "You know you want to."

She rolled her eyes and let go of the door handle, turning on her heel and walking back inside her house in a sort of resigned way, leaving the door open behind her. He watched her as she scuffed her feet and disappeared into her living room and he came in, closing the door behind him and following after her.

"Why are you really here?" she asked him when he joined her in the dimly lit room.

She stood facing him with her arms folded over her chest in a kind of protective manner. She looked tired but still determined enough to take him off guard with her question.

"I… uh…" he stammered. "I told you: I thought we could both raise our glasses and celebrate the dismissal of Vogler together."

"Bullshit," she said, shaking her head. "You and I both know you don't do celebrations. You're here for another reason. So what? You wanna gloat about your victory, is that it? Dr. House defeating the bad guy. Go ahead: You must be really proud."

He frowned and narrowed his eyes at her, a bit taken aback by her reaction. He took one tentative step in her direction and put the bottle of champagne down on the coffee table.

"I'm not the one who defeated him, actually. You did," he said softly.

"And you can enjoy the result just the same: You won't have to wear a coat, or fire anyone in your team. Which means, you're basically free to act as smug and almighty as usual while you go around the hospital like you own the place. Or at least think that you do. So, congratulations, House. Order has been restored and everything's back to normal for you!"

"That guy's a total, giant knob!" he exclaimed. "And I mean that quite literally, too," he added, a weak attempt at cracking a joke to unwind her a little. He wasn't sure he understood what she seemed to insinuate, like there wasn't a good reason to rejoice over the fact that Vogler was gone somehow.

She puffed and glowered at him.

"Yeah, Vogler was an ass. But his $100 million could have bankrolled the medical equipment that we need, helped create a few jobs, even allow some of the current staff a raise."

"You're offering me a raise?" he asked, his smile conspicuously teasing.

"You think you're so much better than he is, don't you?" she snapped somewhat angrily.

His eyebrows flew up in surprise.

"Huh? Where does that come from?" he said, bafflement registering in his voice.

"What did you come here for?" she asked again, more insistently this time, looking him straight in the eyes with a piercing gaze.

He gulped and cast his eyes down briefly.

"I… uh… I came here to thank you," he replied self-consciously, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to say that, uh, what you did was—"

"Reckless, and stupid… and irresponsible."

"I thought that it was pretty bold," he told her, and there was no mistaking the little hint of admiration in his tone as he said it.

"Yeah, right," she huffed sarcastically. "Thank you, I feel much better now."

"Cuddy, come on. You weren't afraid to raise your hand and vote to get rid of him. And from what I've heard, that shows more balls than all the other men combined in that room."

She let out a slightly derisive laugh and rubbed her forehead with her left hand, pushing some loose, raven curls away from her face.

"Vogler wanted to vote on my immediate dismissal," she explained, sounding both defeated and embarrassed by her admission.

"But you didn't let him. You fought back."

"Yeah. And now he's gone. And so is his $100 million."

"Fuck his money!" House said resolutely. "I have every faith in your ability to talk plenty of other guys into signing you big checks to make up for the loss. It's only a matter of choosing the right cleavage, really. And, for the record, I have every faith in your ability to do that, just as well."

Her eyes widened and she stared at him completely stunned by his nerve.

"You really don't get anything," she spat bitterly. "The fact that your sexual innuendos totally lack subtlety, not to mention that they're a blatant insult to my professional competence is one thing but you just couldn't help yourself, now, could you?"

His eyebrows flew up in surprise and he leaned forward on his cane, coming ever so slightly closer to her.

"What did I do now?" he asked, upset.

"What did you do? What did… Hah. I can't believe you have to ask!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation. "You purposely pissed the guy off the second you saw him walk into the hospital and threaten to turn your little daily routine upside down! You never showed one ounce of good will even when it came to following some completely insignificant, basic rules like wearing a coat or just—"

"He wanted me to get rid of someone on my team!"

"Because you pissed him off!"

"He was going to fire Wilson! He was going to fire you!"

"You set that stupid, escalating testosterone war off in the first place, what with you systematically needing to have the last word, no matter how totally immature it is. Goddammit, House do you even think about the consequences of your actions? Why do you always have to be so damned obnoxious every time you're confronted with another human being that shakes you out of your comfort zone?"

"I like my comfort zone," he replied daringly, his voice getting louder. "And you like your comfort zone, too. You hated that guy just as much as every one of us did, don't deny it. He showed up and trampled on your baby, questioned your authority and forced you to submit to his every demand. What were you going to do, uh? Cave? Obey? Don't bullshit me, Cuddy. You and I both know you disagreed with his methods."

"So what? Contrary to you, House, I know how to compromise whenever it's necessary. It doesn't mean I have to like it, but sometimes you just have to... That's how things work. But you! You wouldn't be able to behave like a normal, responsible adult even if your life depended on it. You're a child, whimsical and temperamental. You throw tantrums and—"

"Maybe I'm all of those things. But at least, I'm not a sucker. I can still look at myself in a mirror and not be ashamed of that huge, brown smudge in the middle of my face."

His voice had grown louder, and his tone was reproachful. He stared at her defiantly, waiting for his deliberately spiteful comment to poke the right spot.

"You're blaming me for trying to save your ass?" she retorted angrily.

"I'm not blaming you for that! But you let Vogler control you—""

"You were going to get fired!" she shouted.

"Is that what this is about?" he spat, resentfully. "I told you, Cuddy. If it caused you such an ethical problem to stand up for me, then all you had to do was to let him win and get rid of me!"

"And then what would've happened?"

"Then, you'd have kept your precious dollars," he said disdainfully.

"I don't care about Vogler's money!"

Her voice cracked and he heard her shudder a breath before she swiftly turned her back on him and clutched her fingers tighter around her arms.

"If you'd lost your job, nobody would've hired you, and you know it!" she said after a while, her voice slightly wobbling as she whispered the words.

His eyes widened in stunned surprise as realization suddenly hit him.

"Wait a minute, here… This isn't about the money, is it? If you didn't care about that, then why are you so pissed?"

She stubbornly stayed silent, and oddly, it only helped him see it all the more clearly.

"It never was about keeping the money," he reasoned aloud, incredulous. "All this time you… you just wanted to keep… me?"

"Fuck you, House," she snapped, still facing away from him.

He swiftly took the few steps that separated them and stood resolutely in front of her, staring intensely into her glistening eyes. What he saw there completely paralyzed him and he felt suddenly helpless, but mostly terribly stupid.

"Are you… crying?" he asked, feeling ill at ease.

"No," she denied, just as a single droplet rolled down her cheek. "I'm angry."

"Why?" he asked, softly.

"Because you act like this is just the way things ought to be, like you are the most rational choice that needs to—"

"I am a very rational choice," he said, with the tiniest hint of teasing in his tone. "A choice you made that I'm very grateful for."

She puffed and looked away as another tear rolled down her face, along the bridge of her nose. He sighed heavily, feeling uncomfortable.

He knew she was not used to displaying any kind of weaknesses, and that she was probably blaming herself for letting her feelings show in front of him but somehow, he also knew that, if she was still allowing herself to express them, that was because he, better than anyone else, knew exactly what lay underneath that shell. And she was aware that there was no trying to hide it from him.

They played a game made of power plays and sexual innuendos every day. They constantly challenged each other and pushed each other's buttons in ways nobody else was. But eventually it would never completely erase that other, powerful thing between them. As diffused and unclear as it was, as shy and repressed as it tried to remain, it was there, and they both knew it. And sometimes, it felt good just to act upon it.

"Don't beat yourself up over this," he said softly. "You did good, Cuddy. You always do. And I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about your ridiculously naïve and Manichean idea that Good should always defeat Evil."

He slowly raised his hand to her face and tentatively cupped her cheek with his palm, gently wiping the salty bead away with the pad of his thumb.

"You're not good," she said, ever so slightly leaning into his touch.

"No. But you are," he added, his hand still on her face. "It's highly dysfunctional and totally delusional too, by the way, but that's what you believe in. And you stood up for it."

He pressed his fingertips on her temple just a little harder and took a tentative step toward her. Her breath hitched and she stared at him wide-eyed. He searched for signs of rejection in her gaze and when she didn't move, he leaned down, slowly, and pressed his lips against hers in the softest kiss.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, short of breath, when he leaned in again for another kiss.

"I'm saying thank you," he breathed, his mouth just inches away from hers. "You may be angry right now, but you saved my ass. You put your job on the line for me, Cuddy. That's—"

She leaned back to put some distance between them and covered his mouth with her index finger to silence him. His hand slid off her face when she did and she looked up at him, questioning him with a look of confusion that was also unmistakably mingled with lust. They stared intensely at each other for several, silent seconds until House, never letting go of her eyes, wrapped his fingers around her slender wrist and gently removed her hand from his mouth.

He kept her imprisoned in his grasp, so she raised her other hand and cupped his jaw. Tentatively, he turned his head to the side and rubbed his stubble inside her palm, before laying a kiss in the hollow of her wrist. She swiftly took her hand away as if she'd been burned by embers, and looked down at her other hand, which he was still holding in his.

"Vogler's gone. But I'm still your boss," she said, looking up again as she tried to regain some poise.

"Yes, you're still my boss," he acquiesced, putting the emphasis on the word 'still'. "That's my point, and also kinda the reason why I'm here thanking you. You've no idea how good the sound of that feels right now."

He took a few steps back then, and sat down on her couch, tugging at her wrist and bringing her with him in the process until she toppled forward, and landed on top of him, straddling his lap.

"So, you might as well take advantage of it while it lasts," he added with a roguish smile. "I'm not sure I'll be so keen to have you bossing me around a few days from now."

She tried to move away from him and shifted her body to the side, but he put his hands on her hips and griped her tightly to keep her still. She stopped struggling and froze, staring askance at him.

"What are we doing?" she asked, her voice low and unsure.

He didn't point it out to her, but inwardly he didn't fail to notice her use of the word "we" instead of "you" she'd used when she'd asked him the same question only a few minutes before. To him, it meant she was now definitely as much aware of the part she was playing in this as he was. It gave him enough strength to continue in spite of the raging beat of his heart he could feel loudly thumping in his chest.

"Consider this my one-hundred-million-dollar thank you," he told her, with a mischievous grin, keeping his cool, nonetheless.

She instantly stiffened and sent him an icy glare.

"Are you insinuating I'm some sort of hooker to you?" she snapped angrily, trying to sit up straight.

He stopped her from fidgeting once more and sent her a non-judgmental gaze, one that felt oddly both reassuring and comforting to her.

"Technically," he replied, his eyes never leaving hers, "you're the one who sat on $100 million to save my ass—"

She imperceptibly relaxed and he covered her knees with his hands, inviting her with a light pressure to sit back on his lap. To his greatest delight, she complied.

"So, you're saying you are the hooker?" she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"None of us is anybody's hooker, Cuddy," he cajoled gently, as he expertly slid his hands up her thighs to her hips and drew the tails of her bathrobe out, revealing the hem of a short, white, silky nightie underneath. She followed the movements of his hands with her eyes for a while and then, shot her head up to look at him.

"Then what is this?" she asked, a little breathlessly.

"Nothing. Just… two lonely people seeking comfort in each other."

"I don't need comfort," she quickly denied.

"What if I did?"

She chuckled lightly and studied his face. He locked eyes with her and stared into her eyes with gravity. Taken off guard by the intensity of his gaze, she inhaled a sharp intake of breath and put her hands on his shoulders, ready to push herself up if she felt she had to.

"House," she said, her tone warning. "Don't play games with me."

"No games," he replied evenly. He removed his hands from her hips and stretched his arms out to his sides in a surrendering gesture, as if to indicate he was the one at her complete mercy. "You decide, Cuddy. It doesn't have to be anything other than what it is. Just you and me, right now."

"Why would I want that?" she challenged.

"Why not?" he said, not missing a beat.

She squinted at him and bit her bottom lip. He slouched back into a more laid-back position, resting his head against the couch's backrest to look up at her. Tantalizingly, he studied her reaction with a slightly smug look on his face, or maybe just unnervingly arrogant, but in a way that undeniably started to turn her on.

"You really think you're so good at this I just can't say no to you, don't you?" she told him with a pout, not really knowing if she was mad at him or just aroused by the vision of him, underneath her, arms outstretched to the sides, and quietly waiting for her to make a decision.

"Of course, you can say no. The decision's all yours, Cuddy."

"Are you cheapening yourself to make up for the money I lost because of your insubordination, Dr. House?" she challenged.

"Does it really feel like I'm cheapening myself when you and I both know the reward is going to be so worthy of the loss?" he challenged back, self-confidently.

She widened her eyes, flabbergasted and shifted back, away from him on his lap, unconsciously uncovering her bare thighs a little more in the process.

"You may be one of the best doctors I have, but you're still far from being worth one hundred million dollars," she said bitchily, raising her chin up.

"That's not what I'm talking about," he said, looking her straight in the eyes with burning intensity. "And you know it."

"Are you trying to make me change my mind?"

"Depends. Change your mind about what?"

"About not getting you fired?"

"Not about that, nope."

Out of the blue, she grabbed his shirt lapels and compellingly yanked him toward her, forcing him to sit up straight. Instinctively, he put his palms flat on each side of her hips and she loosely wrapped her arms around his neck. They stared at each other in silence for a while, both of them smiling mischievously.

"What do I have to gain from this?" she asked.

"Aside from the obvious?" he said, shooting a conspicuous glance at his groin in the small space between them.

"What do you have to gain from this?" she rephrased, eyeing him suspiciously and ignoring his teasing remark.

"Nothing," he quickly replied.

"Aside from the obvious," she added, imperceptibly arching the small of her back forward and applying a very deliberate pressure to the front of his jeans.

He sucked in a sharp breath and tipped his head back.

"Aside from the obvious," he repeated, staring at her through lustful, hooded eyes.

She paused and studied his face, all the while sensually sucking on her bottom lip without even being aware of it.

"You are screwed-up," she finally declared after a short silence, as if she'd just come up with the diagnosis that defined him the most.

"Not more screwed-up than you are," he said matter-of-factly. "The option you had was simple: You either kept one hundred million dollars or you kept me. And you chose to keep me. If that's not screwed-up, then I don't know what is."

"That's because, even though your methods may be a bit unconventional, you still help building PPTH's reputat—"

"Oh please! I cost you more money than I yield!"

"Are you implying I'm not doing my job properly?" she warned.

"I wouldn't dare!" he exclaimed, perfectly unruffled.

"Why did you really come here?" she asked him for the third time that night.

"Because you're still my boss," he said with sudden gravity, echoing her previous words.

She sighed voluptuously and closed her eyes, relishing the significance of the confession he'd just made to her in veiled terms. He was really thankful to have her as his boss, of that she had no doubt. And maybe he wouldn't dare to exactly phrase it like that but she knew he meant it all the same.

"And just so we're clear," he added after a while, his voice filled with banter again. "I wouldn't be here if there was a chance it'd have been Vogler instead of you sitting on my lap right now. And I mean that quite literally, coz I really wouldn't be here, but most probably in a hospital bed, suffering from massive bone fractures after he'd crushed me under his weight."

She let out a throaty laugh and bent her head down, burying her face into his neck.

"You're such a jerk," she whispered, blowing the words against his skin.

"A one hundred-million-dollar jerk," he specified proudly.

"Shut up."

She straightened and, without a word, grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket and drew them back, pushing the heavy material off of his shoulders.

"God, I was really beginning to wonder if you'd ever do that!" he sighed, shaking the jacket off him completely and tossing it aside.

She leaned down and covered his mouth with her mouth, nibbling at the pulpy flesh of his lips several times.

"I said 'shut up'," she blew against his chin, biting again before moving to kiss his neck.

"Hmm, I like the sound of that," he moaned with a husky voice.

Impatiently, he slid his hands in the space between them and seized her bathrobe's knot. But as soon as he started fumbling with it, she promptly grabbed hold of his wrists and made him stop. He shot her a quizzical look, and she sent him a bewitching smile as she moved his hands out of the way and took care of the knot herself. Wiggling her shoulders, she allowed the robe to slide off of her, revealing the sexiest, lacy cleavage underneath.

He stared at her barely covered breasts, mouth agape, unashamed of the boyish look of pure yearning that was plastered across his face. She smiled when she registered his obvious, almost feral desire and pushed herself up on her knees to reach for his belt. She unbuckled it quickly and fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans just as fast, hooking her fingers inside the loops and pushing them down, along with his boxers, just far enough around his ass and down his thighs to free his rock-hard erection.

When his shaft finally bobbed up and lay, thick and throbbing, on his lower abdomen, House sucked in a wobbling breath and threw his head back against the backrest as he dug his fingers into the couch's cushions at his sides. Shamelessly staring down at his manhood, Cuddy hastily hitched her nightgown round her waist while, as his head was slightly tilted backwards, he admired the view from this new angle as she uncovered herself and revealed her nakedness underneath. Her sex was swollen and glistening with her juices and the vision, so perfect and beguiling, squeezed a moan in his throat.

"Geez Cuddy, just fuck me already!" he groaned, unapologetically.

He clutched at the curvaceous flesh of her hips and compellingly pulled her down toward his shaft. She beamed, almost victoriously and took his length inside her hand, eliciting another hiss from him. She positioned him between her folds and with her hand firmly holding it at the base she tantalizingly rubbed the head against her entrance a few times, without ever pushing it inside her. She felt a bead of pre-cum coat her finger, as it mixed with the dripping proof of her own arousal. She licked her bottom lip, her eyes locked with his, and she leaned down to kiss him. He nibbled at her lips, ravenously, and bucked his hips upward to try and push himself inside her. She broke away from their kiss and lifted herself up just enough not to let him thrust into her and stay in control of the situation.

"You're a bitch," he said, a look of pure elation on his face.

"You're an ass," she replied with a smile, and she lowered herself onto him.

His grip tightened around her hips as she allowed every inch of him to stretch her, slowly and deliciously, until he was wholly sheathed inside her core. Her mouth fell agape at the sensation, and for a moment she stared at him with her jaw slack, her eyes hooded with lust and a feeling of blissful fullness.

And then, she began rocking her hips, up and down, lasciviously,

His arms circled her hips and slid behind her back, and he placed the palms of his hands flat on her lower back, pressing her against him tightly. With one deft hip sway upward, he thrust into her deeper and she yelped in pleasure. Cupping his jaw in her hands she brought his face up, mere inches away from hers.

"You're not going to get away with it like that," she said, breathlessly, her body undulating with his and matching his tempo as she took everything he had to give without restraint.

He glanced up at her, frowning yet amused, before burying his face in the indent of her collarbone, rubbing his nose against her skin.

"What are you talking about?" he asked alternating between soft kisses and gentle nipping of the round shape of her shoulder.

"This," she said, tipping her head back and stretching her neck, "is not going to earn you a free-pass to do whatever insane thing you think you have the right to do in my hospital."

"Do you seriously feel like talking about work now?" he said reproachfully, but with an unmistakable teasing edge to his voice.

"I seriously feel like… Ahhh!" she gasped, unable to finish her sentence as he'd found a new angle that allowed him to penetrate her even deeper.

For a moment, she completely forgot about what she wanted to say and arched the small of her back, feeling the irrepressible need to rub her sex against his groin in a way that perfectly stimulated her clit and sent her dangerously closer to the edge. She picked up her pace and closed her eyes, throwing her head back as she started panting.

The feeling was undeniably overwhelming him too, but he was not ready for it to end, so he forcefully seized her by the hips and immobilized her with a powerful grip. Taken off guard, she reopened her eyes and tried to sway her hips to resume her rocking movements, but he had her pinned on top of him and unable to move. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him backward a little to study his face. He locked eyes with her and flashed one of his roguish, killer smiles at her to which she replied with a warning glare. Docilely and so visibly pleased with himself it was almost infuriating, he let go of her hips and she began to move again.

"You're still going to do six extra hours of clinic duty every month," she declared, trying to appear as unimpressed as she could by his power games.

"Whatever you say boss," he mumbled dismissively, clearly uninterested.

He smiled, challengingly and nosedived in her neck again. After a few leisurely kisses along her pulse point, he slid his face from her neck to her shoulder and caught the strap of her nightie between his teeth. He pulled gently on the lace to slide it down her arm. The silky material fell down her chest, uncovering one of her breasts. He instantly covered it with his lips, sucking her erect nipple into his mouth and licking the rosy peak with his tongue.

She let out an adorable little squeal and grabbed a handful of his hair to pull him back up.

"I'm serious,' she said.

Shaking his head to free himself from her grasp, he ignored her completely and returned his focus to her breast, sucking on her nipple once more.

"Shut up," he told her, the sound of his voice muffled by the plumpness of her bosom.

He yanked the second strap of her nightie down, rolling the silky fabric at her waist and uncovering her chest entirely. He didn't waste any time to palm her other breast with his hand and kneaded at the soft flesh possessively. When he roughly pinched her erect nipple between his fingers, her chest lurched, and she cried out as a pleasuring wave rippled through her and shook her body from shoulders to knees.

"You're not telling me when to sh—"

As soon as she opened her mouth to speak, he jerked his head up and, gathering her long, curly hair in a ponytail at her nape, he forcefully tugged and forced her to tilt her head backward, sensually arching her closer to his chest with his compelling move.

"I said shut up," he repeated, mimicking her previous command as he ravenously kissed the exposed line of her throat, from underneath her chin to the base of her neck.

She groped around to find his shoulders and he released his grip on her hair. She tipped her head up and their eyes met, aflame with burning desire. For a lingering second, they stared at each other, awestruck, their raw emotions totally bare for them to see. His mouth was slightly ajar, his lips swollen and glistening with moisture, and she was panting heavily, her hooded eyes glittering with carnality.

It overwhelmed them both at the same time and they quickly shook themselves out of it. She cast her eyes down and stared at his mouth, instantly feeling drawn to it. She'd leaned just merely an inch forward when he dived in, mesmerized by her call, catching her lips in a messy, passionate kiss, as he curled his long fingers around her nape and held her in place.

Domineering, he set the pace of their love dance and slid his hand off her neck to grip her hips firmly and impose his tempo to her. Within the next slick thrusts, he either effortlessly lifted her up to enjoy the feeling of sinking back inside her tight inner walls or pinned her down against his groin to relish the sensation of reaching her deep, feeling her pulse around his length as he shoved harder, and harder into her core.

She dug her nails into his biceps and, even through the fabric of his creased shirt, he could feel the marks she was undeniably going to leave on his skin. Her body adjusted perfectly to his rhythm and for the next minutes neither one of them uttered a single word as the small of her back jolted back and forth in synchronized waves, and their low, throaty moans was the only sound that filled the room.

The orgasm, unstoppable and powerful, started building up in their bodies at the same time. The signs were unmistakable as her moans turned into loud cries, and he clutched her hips with bruising force and buried his face between her breasts, breathing heavily against her sweaty skin. He came in shocking ripples, spurting hot semen inside her just seconds after she let the jolts of orgasm take hold of her body, her tight sex clenching around his thickness until he was no longer hard.

Panting, dizzy and almost drunk with lust, they allowed themselves a few minutes to recover, their limp bodies unable to move. Her face was nestled in the crook of his neck as he stroked up and down her spine with his thumbs.

After a while, she finally straightened up first and, with a sigh, extricated herself from his embrace. He moaned in protest, more out of principle than to really express his objection to being pulled out of her as she moved to the side to sit next to him. She quickly readjusted her nightgown, rolling it down so it covered her thighs before putting the straps back on her shoulders. Shooting her a side glance, he took his cue from her and swiftly put his boxers and jeans back on.

It was not like this was going to go anywhere, anyway, he thought, struggling to buckle his belt.

"Just… let me," she said softly.

She propped herself up on her knees and smiled at him before pushing his hands away and taking care of his belt herself.

"I like the new management policy, definitely better than the previous one," he teased, looking her straight in the eyes when she was done.

She rolled her eyes and rested her hands on her lap, sitting back on her heels.

"You're unmanageable," she puffed, playfulness registering in her voice.

He narrowed his eyes at her and studied her face with an intense gaze that made her imperceptibly squirm in discomfort. He felt a lump tightening his throat and he slowly raised his hand to touch the side of her arm, gently brushing her bare skin with his fingertips. She shivered under his stroke, and they stared more intensely at each other for a second. As if mesmerized by her gaze, he wrapped his long fingers around her slender upper arm and, applying a soft pressure, he pulled her down to him, bringing her face closer to his face. She parted her lips slightly and he sucked in a sharp breath, his grip subtly tightening around her arm. It seemed to jolt her out of the dangerous lure she was undeniably feeling for him and, just before their lips could join in a kiss, she put her palm flat on his chest and pushed herself away from him.

"You should go," she whispered, looking down to avoid his gaze, and there was no mistaking the hint of regret in her voice.

He instantly removed his hand from her arm and cleared his throat.

"Yeah," he agreed evenly, pushing with his hands on each side of his thighs to sit up straight.

She watched him as he grabbed his cane and stood up. She swiftly got up after him and they faced each other in silence. She bent down to take his jacket and held it to him.

"Thanks mom," he said, pronouncing the word with an exaggerated pout.

She chuckled and shook her head, putting her palm on his shoulder blade and gently setting him into motion toward the exit. In the entrance, he put his leather jacket on while she held his cane and when he was ready to leave, he simply took it back from her hand and inhaled deeply through his nose. She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him. He smiled, a roguish smile that said he was about to make a smartass comment, but he turned around instead and put his hand on the doorknob.

"I can call you if—" he started, his back to her.

"You don't have to call me," she interrupted him, and he turned around to face her again. "We'll see each other tomorrow at work."

He nodded, signaling he got the message, and she jutted her chin up, her stance screaming 'in charge' as the familiar and incredibly sexy, bossy sparkle lit up again in her eyes. He grinned at her, feeling oddly content with how things were between them.

"We'll see each other tomorrow," he acquiesced, before grabbing the knob again and opening the door to leave.

"Oh and, House," she called after him as he was passing the doorstep. "Find a way to get Cameron back on your team."

He opened his mouth to protest but she raised her hand to stop him.

"You need someone whose vision is not entirely driven by the sole, obsessive need to find the truth."

"But truth is the only thing worth obsessing about!" he protested with a flourish. "And Cameron is obsessed with that other, completely useless thing they call patients," he grimaced, faking disgust.

She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips, elegantly arching her eyebrows and shooting him that typical 'not impressed' look of hers that always made him feel funny.

"Precisely! If you can't do it yourself, then you need someone to care about your patients for you. So do whatever you have to do, but get her back on your team," she said bossily.

He puffed loudly and theatrically rolled his eyes upward.

"Fine," he grumbled resignedly, pouting like a child.

She smiled at him, visibly pleased with herself and took a small step forward to come closer to him, patting him on the side of the arm.

"Good," she approved.

"She's totally into me, you know," he warned her with another pout.

"Then you won't have a problem convincing her to come back," she said empathically, patting him again.

He sighed dramatically.

"Good night, House."

He paused to look at her hand on his arm and then planted his eyes back into hers again. She shivered lightly at the unavoidable burning sensation that his intense gaze on her, studying her, made her feel.

"Good night, boss," he answered, his tone an obvious tease as he turned on his heel and left.

** THE END **

A/N

To me, Huddy was there right from the start, maybe not as conspicuous as it became later in the show but even in the pilot, I'd felt it right away with that first elevator scene… Yes, in season one, their banter was more motivated by work issues but there was no mistaking the sexual innuendos underneath half of House's jokes, or lurking gazes.

Maybe, surely, they'd have never acted on it around that time but the attraction was undeniably there and as House and Cuddy were both two equally sexually-driven characters I kind of like the idea that they could have had passionate, hot steamy sex for no other reason than… just have it! Even in season 1. :)

You're free to think that the scene depicted in this one-shot however held the promise of something more significant because I definitely, and deliberately, left some hints that it could along the way.

My goal with each of the First Times one-shots is to find a way to write a first time that doesn't alter canon storyline as it was before, but mostly, doesn't change what it became after.

So I thought that squeezing this one-shot after "Babies & Bathwater" but before "Kids" was perfect because whatever House and Cuddy may have felt for each other in this story, and even if it's reasonable to think that they would have wanted more, "Kids" is the episode where Cameron bargains her return in exchange for a date with House and then, almost right after their epic fiasco at the restaurant, Stacy comes back so it obviously kills every chance for House and Cuddy to explore what could have possibly happened further….

But, and that's the beauty of it, I like the idea that later in season 2, when House asks Cuddy "By the way, why does everybody think you and I had sex? (...)" In "Humpty Dumpty," he could also totally be referring to that (rather than to their one-night stand, as it was surely intended)… Hah! ;P

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed reading this one-shot as much I've enjoyed writing it. :)

Have a nice day ~ maya