Their eyes held for a long moment and House couldn't help grinning at her expression. She smiled back openly and even in the dim light of the pre-dawn he could see the sparkle in her eyes, the simple joy there. She looked good and properly fucked – there was no other description that fit. And his own body was tingling in a way it hadn't done in a long time. Too long.

At that thought he turned away, looked up at the ceiling and swallowed hard. Tried to recall the last time he'd had sex with someone he hadn't paid; the last time he'd had sex with someone he'd actually succeeded in seducing.

He closed his eyes and felt a familiar twist of bitterness about how his life had unfolded. If the world had been different he might have had a wife. Or at least had sex with a few more women. Hell, he might have even had a kid or two.

That was all behind him now.

As his thoughts began to get fuzzy, House realised he was starting to fall asleep. He understood how the chemicals working in his body were making that happen. But he needed to make sure of something first.

"It's not always like that," he said without moving or opening his eyes, the words sounding gruff even to his ears.

"I know." He heard the quiet surprise in her voice and felt her rearranging herself, returning the pillow to its rightful position and puling the covers over them both. She seemed about to move over toward him to cuddle into his body.

"I just wanted you to know. I've fucked a few women in my life." He heard her draw in a quick breath at the profanity and she lay back into the bed without touching him.

"What do you mean?"

Hell, what did he mean? He heard the hurt in her question. Was he trying to tell her that was the best sex he'd had in a long time? Or that it hadn't meant that much to him? He didn't even know.

"I just don't want you holding the next poor sap you get into bed up to these lofty standards, 'cause it won't happen again," he joked weakly. "That's all."

"Oh."

Yeah, that was it. It was no good if she went and got her hopes up, House told himself. He just didn't want her to be disappointed. He wasn't even sure if he could manage a repeat performance himself. It was one of those things – the right pheromones, the right hormones, the right amount of teasing leading up to it. It had been a one-time thing that was unrepeatable.

He fell asleep before he could think much further.


--

When Jen woke up, there was an unfamiliar weight on her chest and legs. It took a moment before she realised that Greg had rolled over to her in his sleep. His bad leg was thrown over her thighs and his arm was resting just under her breasts. His head lay close to hers and he was snoring gently.

She turned her head to look at him in his sleep, careful not to disturb him. Weak sunlight was struggling to make its presence felt in the dark and gloomy room. She could make out his features much more clearly than she had when she'd perused him the during the night.

In the light of the morning there was something different about him. During the night she'd seen the shadows of the athletic young man he'd once been, a skilful and passionate lover who, in a few small gestures, had shown a gentle side of himself and had taken care of her. Now she saw the creases in his face worn deep from pain, the tiredness about him that seemed evident even when he was asleep. She felt both pity and a little flash fear. Pity for his physical and emotional pain. Fear at how much she thought he could hurt her if she let him.

She didn't know what had provoked his comments after they'd had sex, but they'd left her confused and hurt. Even though she didn't have much sexual experience she certainly had a bit of life experience. She knew that men and women saw sex differently and she didn't expect him to fall in love with her. But he'd seemed to find it necessary to warn her off in some absurd, obtuse way– she knew when he said that kind of sex would never happen again, he was really telling her that this one a one-night only deal. But with his body thrown over hers, it was tempting to read far more into it than it actually meant. The gesture seemed so at odds with his words.

Jen lay still for a while, just soaking in the comforting weight and warmth of his body. He stirred a couple of times, burrowing closer to her, and Jen realised he'd be awake soon, and that their night would be over when that happened. She was trying to work out how she felt about that when his arm moved and his hand started stroking between her legs.

"You're awake," she said accusingly.

"So are you," he said, not moving or opening his eyes. His hand worked her slowly, building the tension almost without her noticing.

"It's morning."

"Really?" he teased, pushing in to dip one finger inside her.

"Yes. I've been up for ages," Jen said, surprised by his light-heartedness and his sexual attention. She'd prepared for an awkward morning-after scene.

"So have I," he replied, pressing his pelvis into her hip and letting her feel his arousal.

"So I see," she replied. His leg over hers kept her immobile, unable to even spread her thighs to give his hand deeper access to her body. He pulled his finger out of her, using her slippery fluids to rub against her quickly and insistently, setting a rhythm against her clit that soon got rid of all the thoughts whirling through Jen's mind; her body simply focused on the sensations he provoked. She gasped as he sped up, keeping a constant, firm pressure and was shocked at how quickly her body responded. Her orgasm, not as intense as the last one, nevertheless had her crying out, a guttural noise of desperation and release, and she gripped his shoulder with her hand, her fingernails digging in to leave small, half-moon prints in his skin.

She took a while to return to earth; his hand rubbing her gently as she came down from the peak; her fingers stroking the solid muscles of his arm.

"I've come more times in the last twelve hours than I have in the last two years," she said lightly once her breath had returned. Jen turned to kiss him, but he rolled away, laying on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes. He chuckled.

"Really?"

She could hear that he was pleased with himself. His erection had faded though, and Jen wasn't sure what her next move should be.

"Do you want a turn?" she asked.

"No."

"Oh." Jen wasn't sure what to make of that. She wondered if maybe his leg hurt, but he seemed very sensitive about that, so she didn't want to say anything in case he was offended. They lay quietly for a while. Jen was sure it was time for her to leave but she wasn't quite sure how to do it elegantly. She didn't want him watching her dress, especially now that the room was light.

"I guess you're sober now," he said after a few minutes.

"What? Oh." Jen realised that was his subtle attempt at telling her to get out of his bed and drive herself home. "Yeah, I suppose I am. Where are my keys?"

"On the hall stand."

"Right." He still had his arm over his eyes, so she decided to make a break for it. She quickly rose from the bed, gathered her clothes from the floor and dashed into the bathroom. She dressed hurriedly, suddenly feeling an overwhelming embarrassment about…well…everything. Did she really have his cock in her mouth last night? Had he really held her ass in his hands as he stabbed into her? How had it all happened?

Her cheeks were hot, her stomach was in a knot and her thigh muscles ached and still trembled slightly as if she'd done a step class at the gym. There was also a vaguely pleasurable pain between her legs, almost as if she'd lost her virginity all over again.

Jen paused for a moment, knowing that she could leave through the other door of the bathroom and head straight down the corridor and out the front door – no need to speak to him at all. Something about that didn't feel right, even though the idea had a lot to recommend it.

Sucking up a breath, she opened the bathroom door and walked back into the bedroom. House hadn't moved from his position on the bed.

"Well, Greg, thanks for everything…" Jen groaned inwardly at herself. "Thanks for everything?" That's what you say? You idiot. She stood, arms hanging by her sides, completely at a loss. What on earth should she say? She thought about just turning around and walking out, but suddenly she had a vision of the night before, when his hands had been tangled in her hair and he'd growled her name aloud, his voice dripping with desire. Just the memory of it sent a spark of warmth to the base of her spine. She'd been good, she was sure of it. He might have been great, but she'd at least been good.

God, she'd love the chance to do it again.

She'd taken a massive risk yesterday, agreeing to come to his place and sleep with him. Not to mention what she'd done to him in the night. What was one more?

"I'm going to leave my number on your desk out in the living room. It would be nice to catch up again," she said quietly.

House gave a non-committal grunting noise, which she figured was his way of trying to indicate that he was almost asleep again. And it just happened to negate the need for him to form words, like "yes", or "no" or even "good bye".

"Right." Jen waited a moment longer, to see if he would say anything, but when he didn't move she turned and headed down the corridor.

She picked up her keys and purse, wrote her name and cell phone number on a piece of paper on his desk and left, glad it was Sunday. She'd probably have to do some grovelling at home – she had, after all, deserted her sick sister, but Jen had a feeling that Sarah would be so pleased about the reason why she'd been abandoned that she'd be forgiven. She'd pick up some breakfast for Sarah, make her apologies, have a shower and then have a nice, long, sleep.


--

Monday lunchtime

Wilson had been talking about a difficult and critical patient he'd been called in to treat on Sunday, and it took until he and House were about half-way through lunch before he remembered Friday night. House was a little surprised at the delay – Wilson was usually much more on the ball about anything that might involve House's sex life.

"Oh! I can't believe I forgot! How did you go with the kindergarten teacher?" Wilson asked suddenly.

House took a large bite of his hoagie without answering. For House, it was just as telltale as if he'd blushed.

"Wh-a-a-t?" Wilson asked, intrigued. "What happened?"

"She was…unexpected," House mumbled through his mouthful.

"What do you mean? Did you take her home?"

"Sort of."

Wilson leaned in closer, lowering his voice.

"So did you get lucky?"

House swallowed his food and gave Wilson a sneer. "I can't believe you just asked me that. 'Got lucky'. Who says that?"

"Well, whatever you want to call it. Did you?"

House nodded.

"And?" Wilson leant in eagerly.

"And what?"

Wilson sat back in his chair, giving House an appraising look.

"Okay, something's going on. You're normally full of details. What happened?"

House put down his sandwich and leant his elbows on the table. "You want details? She was hot. It was hot. I introduced her to her g-spot which had hitherto been missing in action. She told me she had more orgasms in one night that she'd had for the past two years. And for that she was very grateful: she not only deep throats but swallows. Enough?"

Wilson looked at House distastefully. "Okay, so maybe I didn't want those details."

House shrugged, picked up his food and started eating again. He wished now that he hadn't said no to Jen's offer of another round in the morning, but what he'd wanted at the time was her straddling him. He knew it was unlikely she'd go for that and he hadn't had the energy to cajole her into it. His other choice, lying on top of her, face-to-face, looking into her honey-brown eyes, made him feel nervous for some reason. So it had been easier just to say no.

"So when are you going to see her again?" Wilson asked.

"No plans to."

"You had hot sex with a kindergarten teacher and have no plans to do it again? Why not?"

House had no idea why he had decided not to see Jen again – the sex had been good, their conversation fun and engaging - but something warned him off. Waking up wrapped around her had been a surprise. He hadn't done that with anyone since Stacy. He'd forgotten how comfortable it was – not just the warmth of another body next to his, but it took the pressure off his leg when it was elevated that way. He sometimes slept with his knee on a pillow, but that wasn't half as pleasant. His first reaction had been to hold her tighter, but that had just been instinctual, he'd been still half asleep, so it meant nothing. Nothing other than sexual attraction. And he'd turned it into sex, giving her yet another climax. Kind of a thank you for letting me use you as my pillow. That's all it had been.

He decided to change the subject.

"She's not a kindergarten teacher. She's Dr Jen Edwards – she has a PhD in philosophy."

"Philosophy?" Wilson was incredulous.

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"Philosophy," Wilson repeated, his tone clearly still indicating disbelief. "She said she worked with kids."

"Long story, but she now works with disabled kids with language difficulties."

"Wow. Intelligent then, so we got that bit wrong. And you didn't want blonde. But right on all the other scores?"

"Pretty much."

"So was she, like, hideous underneath that cardigan she was wearing or something?"

House thought of Jen's creamy, heavy breasts and felt himself twitch in response like a teenager. He was actually annoyed by it.

"No. Not hideous."

"So we're back to the original question. Why no plans to see her again?"

House rolled his eyes, exasperated by his friend's relentless questioning.

"I don't need the hassle."

"Ri-i-ight. Because your life is so full," Wilson said sarcastically. "Work, getting drunk at home by yourself, work. Yeah, satisfyingly rounded life you've got yourself there buddy. And those intelligent, attractive chicks who not only deep throat but swallow, are such a hassle."

House cringed at hearing his own words thrown back at him.

"Leave it Wilson," he said warningly. Something in his tone must have done the trick, because Wilson glared at him for a while, but then shook his head and went back to his lunch. They returned to talking about Wilson's patient and thoughts of Jen went to the back of House's mind again, where they belonged.