** CHAPTER 15 **

Cuddy came back to earth first. She shook herself and carefully slid off the washstand, easing her body down to the ground. Then she looked at House with a fulfilled smile and tenderly cupped his face in her hands, pulling it to hers. He leaned down and gave her a kiss, smooth and delicate, brushing her lips with his, while he wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her close to him again. She let him and slid her hand on his back, gently stroking him with her fingernails. He drew apart and pressed his forehead against hers, basking in the quiet peacefulness of this moment, as he listened to their breathing, just enjoying the sensation of her hands caressing his skin.

After a time-suspended moment of absolute serenity, Cuddy straightened up in his arms and looked up at him.

"Have you eaten?" she asked, her hoarse voice betraying the emotional flow that had just run through her.

House took a deep breath and smiled at her with gratitude.

"Actually, I haven't."

"That's what I thought," she said, nodding with a knowing smile.

"What?" he asked, impishly.

"Your stomach's rumbling," she chuckled.

"Well, I guess that's what happens when you miss lunch and dinner!" He pouted, with a martyr face designed to make her feel guilty.

"As a doctor, you should know that's really not the smart thing to do!" She frowned in disapprobation. "Ok, let's see what we can do to fix this!"

She freed herself from his embrace and took a gray bathrobe hanging behind the bathroom door. She put it on and casually handed him a fresh, dry towel to cover himself. As he wrapped it around his waist, she studied him, a little intrigued.

"Where have you been all day?" she asked, out of the blue.

For a short moment, House silently stared at her with his piercing blue eyes, just as if he was reliving the moment in his mind.

"Here and there," he finally replied, deflecting.

"That's not an answer."

He came closer to her and smiled mysteriously.

"I've thought about you … And strippers… Well, actually, I haven't thought about strippers, I watched them. But I definitely thought about you, then."

Cuddy sighed resignedly, thinking she would probably never know if he was sincere or if it was something he'd just made up to avoid telling her the truth. She realized then that it didn't matter because House was here now, with her. So, she looked at him with a quiet smile that silently said it was ok not to know and that he could keep it a secret.

But, after the blissful hour he'd just spent with her, House was in a playful, bantering mood.

"Why are you asking me this? Have you been looking for me Dr. Cuddy?" he teased.

"No." She shook her head. "I'm just concerned about your patient, that's all."

"Liar!" he said with a broad smile. "You know your patient isn't even a real one!"

"Yes, she is!" she protested, the doctor in her suddenly taking over.

House instantly saw that thin line, there, taunting him. One he would have unhesitatingly crossed, not so very long ago, just for the joyful pleasure of pushing her buttons. But in that very moment, he didn't want to play that game with her, so he just stared at her, so enticing in her bathrobe, with her black curly hair framing her perfect face and he caved. He locked eyes with her and docilely nodded his approval.

"Yes, she is," he repeated evenly, then leaned down to give her a kiss.

She tutted and swiftly moved away from his face.

"House, I'm serious," she said, checking suspiciously in his eyes to see if he wasn't trying to trick her.

He sustained her gaze, pulling his best convincing look, wanting to do things right. Cuddy furrowed her brow and came closer, studying his face, and he flashed her an earnest smile that finally seemed to satisfy her.

"And, um, I was hungry, remember?" he reminded her sassily.

She raised her chin to him and stood, her face just an inch away from his, narrowing her eyes warningly at first before smiling broadly and pinching his cheek.

"Well, you're not off the hook! Coz I'll keep an eye on you."

"Of course, you will! Now go cook something for me woman!" he growled jokingly, smacking her buttocks and gently pushing her outside.

Cuddy giggled and left the bathroom, heading out of the bedroom to go to the kitchen. Once he was alone, House removed the towel from his waist, picked up his clothes and got dressed. He emptied the bathtub and before leaving the room, he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He stared at his image with an inquiring look: He looked just the same, but he still felt a little different, nevertheless. And, for the first time in a long time, it wasn't a disturbing feeling.

# # # # #

When House joined Cuddy in the kitchen, she was bustling with food, her back turned to him. It looked like she'd emptied her fridge all over the kitchen counter. He glanced suspiciously at the colorful pile of vegetables lying next to slices of weird bread and condiment jars.

Suddenly noticing his presence in the room, she turned around and flashed him a radiant smile.

"I made you a sandwich. It's-"

"Oh no, don't tell!" he said with his eyes wide. "Let's make it a surprise."

He stared at the sandwich, intrigued: Two slices of whole-wheat bread, crammed with lettuce and tomatoes, and God only knew what else. In his book, his would have been an enormous sandwich with at least three slices of toasted bread overflowing with roasted beef, onions, and grilled cheese. In his book, Cuddy's sandwich merely qualified as some kind of food for rabbits, or lab mice, or anything non-human with teeth.

But she looked so happy to have prepared it for him. House took the sandwich and gave it a greedy bite while Cuddy stared at him with obvious satisfaction. He was so hungry anyway, he could have eaten pretty much anything. Quite unexpectedly, he had to admit it was not that bad, after all… it was actually good. He took a second bite and sighed contentedly as he enjoyed the feeling of his stomach finally being filled.

"Want something to drink?" Cuddy asked, opening her fridge.

"Hmm yeah, beer," House mumbled with his mouth full.

"I don't have any beer," she said, looking adorably sorry. "But I have some wine if you want-"

"Wine, of course, you have wine! White, I bet?"

"Yes. And? What's wrong with white wine?" she said defensively.

She grabbed two glasses and filled them both with a dose of light-yellow alcohol.

"Nothing. It's just that it's such a predictable female drink."

"That's what I am."

"What?"

"A female."

"Yes. But not always predictable," House said hoarsely.

He'd finished his sandwich and was licking his fingers, smiling enigmatically at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cuddy questioned, her curiosity aroused.

"Just that I like how you can totally surprise me sometimes."

"With white wine?" she said with a kittenish smile, not really fooled by his little game.

"Yes, among other things," he replied getting closer and grabbing her by the waist.

They kissed. It deliciously and frighteningly tasted like evidence. And it struck House, deep within the chest. He suddenly felt overwhelmed by an inexplicable emotion that he wasn't used to feeling anymore.

"Maybe I should go," he heard himself say aloud.

"Why?" Cuddy exclaimed, bewildered by his unexpected suggestion.

House stared at her, taken aback by the sad tone in her voice.

"Is this some kind of revenge?" she added, looking hurt. "You wanted to get even, is that what it is?"

"God, she's so twisted and unsure!" he thought "and you're such a stupid jerk!"

How could he make her believe, or believe himself, for one second, that he would actually want to leave for real when, in fact, the only thing that he wanted was to stay and hold her close to him until the next morning?

"You didn't say you wanted me to stay," House said with a sulky pout, hoping she would understand he never intended to leave for real.

Cuddy widened her eyes and put her hand in front of her mouth, as if she suddenly realized how irrationally she'd reacted.

"Unless…" he carried on, coming closer and evilly turning the tables on her, "you didn't say it because you actually want me to leave."

She looked up at him, dismayed, and shook her head even as she felt undeniably reassured by the unmistakable bantering edge in his voice.

"You're crazy," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, crazy about you," House thought to himself, silently staring at her.

He came closer then and leaned down to her neck to tickle her earlobe with his tongue. She wiggled at the sensation, and he pulled her tighter against him, undoing the knot of her bathrobe's belt and sliding his hands underneath the garment to caress the bare skin underneath her belly button.

"God House, you're so insatiable!" Cuddy fake-protested, slanting up on her tiptoes and pressing herself against him.

"Oh-ho!" he guffawed. "Don't pretend to be shocked, coz I know you want that, too!"

"I do. That's why you find me so irresistible!" she sassed, shooting him a mischievous look.

She took his hand in hers and led him out of the kitchen, leaving the place a compelete mess behind her.

# # # # #

Cuddy guided House toward her bedroom.

And he followed her through the hallway toward the smooth light with a bouncing limp. There, they got undressed slowly. They lied down on her bed. And they had sex. They made love. Whichever it was, they just did it again. Softly and languorously. Their bodies entwined, cradled by the perfect symbiosis of their waving movements, and riveted to each other by their mesmerizing silent stares.

When, finally, their thirst was quenched and their yearning satisfied, House rolled to the side and lay on his back with his arms stretched out, quietly gazing at the ceiling. Cuddy slid next to him and the second he felt her skin against his, he turned his head to the side to look at her and patted on his chest to motion her to come closer.

She cuddled up against him and he wrapped his arm around her waist to bring her close while she nested her head in the hollow of his collarbone and slid her feet between his calves. He leisurely stroked the small of her back with his fingertips and soon, warmed by the feeling of his naked skin against her skin and lulled by the softness of his touch, she fell asleep. Registering the quiescence of her body next to his, House stilled his hand on her back and listened to her peaceful breathing for a while before falling in the arms of Morpheus himself.

He couldn't tell how long they'd been serenely sleeping wrapped in each other's embrace but, at some point during the night, House heard the disturbing and familiar sound of his cell phone ringing. First, he jumped, joggled by the sudden noise and when he opened his eyes, it took him a second to realize he wasn't in his bed and that the naked body spooned in his arms was Lisa Cuddy.

Within the sound of the next ringing, she woke up and groaned, stretching against him and the delightful and involuntary rubbing it created did wake House for good. Mechanically, Cuddy stretched her arm to reach out for the phone on her nightstand, but he gently held her gesture back.

"Mine," he said.

She instantly fell back in his arms, repositioning herself against him. Out of habit, House had put his cell phone on the nightstand beside him and when it rang again, he moved to the side to pick it up and lay back in bed next to her. Before whoever was at the end of the line had a chance to speak, he growled into the receiver, while making room for Cuddy inside his arms, and intensely looking at her as she snuggled back against him.

"Someone'd better be dying because if you ruined my beauty sleep for no reason I-"

He didn't finish his sentence. He fell silent and listened while his face took on a serious look. He nodded a few times, then hung up the phone and sat up straight in the bed.

"Foreman," he simply stated without further explanation, just letting Cuddy know who it was.

She looked at him with a comprehensive smile and straightened herself up to sit next to him.

"Well, seems like your patient is actually a real patient," he deadpanned, turning his head to the side to look at her.

"She's not my patient, she's yours. And I thought we'd already established that she was a real patient."

"Up until now, I thought she was a real alcoholic but, apparently, that girl is more than just that."

"What's wrong?" the doctor in her inquired with genuine concern.

"She's got radiating pain in the chest. Her heart is being monitored right now, but her BP's really low."

"Cardio-myopathy?"

"I don't know."

"So, you have to go?"

"Actually, I'm probably not really needed in there, but since they're just babies who seem really lost when daddy's not there to reassure them, I think I'll go, yeah."

Cuddy's eyes widened in bafflement, as if asking "What the hell are you talking about?" and House looked at her with mock shock before answering her silent question.

"Don't look at me with these eyes. It's not my fault if I'm this powerful as a mentor!"

He sighed heavily and all his theatrical efforts at sounding offhand made Cuddy melt.

"You're the one wanting to be there," she said fondly.

"Crap!" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "They're just helpless without me, is all! Plus, they'd kill too many people if I weren't there to watch their backs."

"You care," she insisted, smiling.

House shook his head and puffed, trying to show her how wrong she was but he couldn't repress a smile either.

"Hah, you think you know me, now? Tutt, you got it all wrong. I don't give a damn about what's going on there."

Her smile grew wider, and she patted his thigh gently.

"You can't stand not knowing what's going on there. And you're dying to go. So, go! You don't need to pretend you want to stay," she told him with seriousness. "I don't expect you to, anyway. I'm perfectly capable of understanding that. I'm a doctor too, you know."

"Pfft, you're not a doctor" he teased. "You're a woman administrator. You eat doctors for breakfast!"

Cuddy flashed him a coy smile and slid her hand beneath the cover, coming suggestively closer to him.

"And in the middle of the night, too-"

"You said I'd better be going," House said, his eyes widening in pure awe when he felt her hand on his groin.

"You said it wasn't so urgent," she replied without missing a beat, leaning down to kiss him.

"Did I?" he said, rolling to the side and pulling her into him.

# # # # #

It was, indeed, the middle of the night when House arrived at the hospital. Cuddy was right: He really wanted to go there and see for himself what was wrong with his patient. He was intrigued because, truth is, being still confused from the previous night, he hadn't given a really thorough look at her file when Warren had brought it to him that morning.

And now, the mere idea that because of his lack of focus he'd maybe missed something important was obsessing him. At the same time though, he knew without an ounce of a doubt that he'd have rather spent the whole night with Cuddy instead of being here and, strangely, that truth almost frightened him.

It was odd: That blunt evidence was new to him, but it was as if he'd felt it in him for a long time. What had happened between he and Cuddy was impossible to ignore, but House wasn't ready to put a name on it yet. He just knew that they undeniably clicked together. It was just as simple as that: Something uncomplicated that didn't need to be labelled.

When, after having taken a shower, House had left her, Cuddy was half-dozing in the slumberous peacefulness of her afterglow, and they'd both agreed that they'd see each other the next day.

As he arrived at PPTH, House was looking forward to it and feeling light and upbeat at the thought. Despite the ungodly hour, he whistled joyfully all the way from the main lobby to his office, without even noticing that he was. He walked more steadily, holding his cane without really leaning on it, a look of happiness on his face.

When he entered the conference room, all his fellows were already seated around the table, waiting for him. His whistling died on his lips when he realized everyone was staring at him with an intrigued look.

Mastering the perfect, casual reaction, House took his jacket off, walked directly toward the white board and grabbed the black marker, which he uncapped before exclaiming to the four.

"Ok so, what do we have here?"

Foreman who'd followed him with his eyes ignored House's question and frowned, intrigued.

"Where were you?" he said, his tone inquisitive. "We tried your landline first, but you didn't answer."

House narrowed his eyes at him and smirked, while thinking of a smartass answer to shut him up.

"Sorry, I was in the bathroom. See that?" he said, brandishing his cane. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a cripple. Which is why I can never make it to the phone in time when I'm there. Also, why I don't even try. Hence me having a cell, so I can pick it up anywhere I am when I get a call, sometimes ending up chatting with you guys while I'm having a night poop!"

Thirteen lifted her eyes and shot House a disgusted look for sharing that uncalled-for bit of information with them. Kutner nodded and smiled comprehendingly, and Foreman lowered his gaze, defeated.

"Cardiac exam showed no dysfunctional problem. Heart is fine. We put her on heptaminol to control the BP. The pain in her shoulder disappeared but she's complaining about serious nausea now-"

"Thank you, Dr. Taub!" House exclaimed extravagantly. "Thank God, we've at least got one doctor who cares about the patient."

Taub silently stared at House.

"Well, it's late" he finally said. "And I have a wife. So, the quicker we find out what's wrong with the patient, the faster I can go back home."

"Did you hear Taub, here?" House said, cutting. He turned to the others and added, "it's not because we, poor, miserable bachelors don't have a life that we shouldn't give the married guy a little help, right? Let's all give it our best shot now so that Taub can hurry home and go back to sleep… in his empty couch!"

Thirteen turned to Taub and give him a sorry look.

"Could be salpingitis," she suggested.

"She's 21, not married, not even with someone apparently. Doesn't seem like she's sexually active-" Kutner said.

"Wow!" House guffawed. "You need to be married to be sexually active?"

Kutner pouted like a grounded child and bowed his head.

"Maybe the radiating pain in her chest isn't caused by her heart. Could be the liver. And it's consistent with Salpingitis: Fitz Hugh syndrome," Foreman said, refocusing on the differential.

"She'd have fever," Thirteen objected

"They gave her a strong dose of antipyretic in the E.R. It could've masked the importance of that," Taub proposed.

"Ok!" House said, putting an end to the streaming flow of thoughts. "Put her on ampicillin and scan her abdomen to rule out any risk of peritonitis."

As he was finishing his sentence, everyone's beeper suddenly started ringing. Foreman looked down at the message and sighed.

"I think it's too late for the abdominal scan," he said. "She's started vomiting and her temperature is 103. She's already showing peritonitis symptoms."

A/N

Yes... House is not just a man, he's also a diagnostician. I thought it was only fair to explore that field, too, and add some medical mystery to the whole plot. But I'm not a doctor (even if I have a few knowledge in that field – a few being the key words here) so please, don't throw rocks at me if there're some mistakes... I tried to make it as plausible as I could...

thank you for your kind words and your enthusiastic comments so far!

have a nice day ~ maya