Special thanks to Z for helping with a few key plot points of this chapter. Also, I pride myself on the mimesis of my stories and I admit that this one doesn't quite pass the smell test. Hopefully you can just suspend your disbelief (please?) and go with it. - atd

The Monday after House was a no-show at Little Bird, he spotted Cuddy getting into the hospital elevator.

He grinned, began limping quickly in her direction. She saw him—at least he was pretty sure she had—but let the elevator door to close on his face.

Weird, he thought.

Later that day, she came to the DDx room to deliver some bad news to the team.

"I wasn't able to get your patient on the transplant list," she said.

"But you said you were going to call in some favors," Taub said. "Pull some strings."

"I tried," Cuddy said, somewhat tersely. "I failed. It happens."

"Our patient's going to die without that kidney," Thirteen said.

"Can't you pull any more strings?" Kutner said. "Make some more phone calls?"

"What part of she tried didn't you understand?" House sniped. "Lay off."

The whole team shot him a curious look.

He expected Cuddy to smile at him with gratitude. Instead, she gave a curt nod and left.

He frowned.

"I'll be right back," he said, following her into the hall.

She'd already begun walking away, briskly.

"Hey!" he called after her.

"I'm sorry, House," she said. "Your patients don't always get top priority, shocking as that may be to you. You're just going to have to find another way."

"No, it's not that. It's . . ."—he swallowed—"are you okay?"

She gave a slightly derisive snort and kept walking. House looked at her, helplessly, then looked at his team, who were all staring at him. He scratched his chin, went back to the differential.

"What did she say?" Kutner asked.

"About what?" he said distractedly, still staring into the hallway.

"Our patient?"

"Oh, yeah. She couldn't get him on the list."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Taub said.

House folded his arms.

"Go tell our patient he better find some long-lost family member who's a kidney match or he'll be dead in 48 hours," he said wearily.

"We'll, uh, find a nicer way to say it than that," Thirteen said, standing up. The team followed her out.

"What's up with House and Cuddy?" Kutner asked, once they were in the hall.

"I don't know," Taub said. "But if Cuddy has been the source of the good mood he's been for the last few days, something tells she's about to be the source of a really bad one."

After they were gone, House made his way to Cuddy's office.

She was already back at her desk, doing some sort of paperwork.

He cleared his throat.

"I'm busy," she said.

"Hey," he said, hurt.

"What?" she replied, annoyed.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Another derisive snort.

"The fact that you have to ask that shows you're not even close to being ready to be in a relationship."

"Cuddy, I'm completely lost here. What did I do?"

She finally looked up.

"I waited at Little Bird for over an hour! It was humiliating."

"What?" His mouth dropped open.

"Don't tell me you forgot about our date Friday night."

"I didn't forget. You cancelled on me!"

"That's a new one."

"Are you saying you didn't cancel on me?"

"Yes House. That's exactly what I'm saying. And you know it!"

"You texted me that night. Your exact words were: 'Sorry. Need to reschedule. Will explain later.'"

"Your ability to lie to me with a straight face is astonishing."

He cocked his head, studying her.

"Are you messing with me?"

"No, but you're obviously messing with me."

He pulled out his phone, began scrolling through his messages.

"Cuddy, you texted me Friday night. I have the texts to…" he stopped, as a look of confusion washed over his face.

She raised an eyebrow.

"You were saying."

"They were on my phone on Friday!" he said, frantically, scrolling some more, feeling his neck get hot.

"And what happened to them? Did the cellphone gremlins erase them?"

"No. . .I. . .this makes no sense!"

"You can stop lying now House. You've been caught."

He stopped looking at his phone. The texts were clearly not there.

"I guess it's possible I fell asleep and dreamt those texts," he said, totally puzzled. "Cuddy, I would never ever intentionally stand you up."

"And yet you did."

"I'm sorry. Do you honestly think after that night we spent together I wouldn't want, well, another night together?"

"Sex yes. Date no. You made that rather clear on Monday night."

He swallowed.

"I'm not playing here. I want us to work. For real. And if that means dinners at trendy restaurants with names so precious they trigger my gag reflex, then that's what we'll have—as many as you want. I will eat at the Puny Pig, the Tiny Tortoise, the Miniature Manatee, you name it."

Cuddy looked at him. He was clearly being genuine.

"Okay," she said, with a sigh. "We'll chalk this up to a misunderstanding. A really bizarre misunderstanding, but one all the same."

"Thank you," he said, relieved. "So we can try again? Say…tomorrow night?"

"Yes," she said. "But NOT at Little Bird. It's jinxed."

"I'll see if the Miniature Manatee is accepting reservations," he said, with a smile.

"How bout Sullivan's?" she said.

"Oh come on. Even I can do better than that. Giovanni's?"

"I went there with Lucas."

"I know. I want to prove to you what a better date I am."

She gave him a slightly flirty look.

"Oh, I'm already well aware of that."

"Nice," he said. "Giovanni's it is. 8 pm. Don't be late. Lord knows I won't. In fact, just to be on the safe side, I'm leaving right now."

She chuckled.

"Come here," she said, softening.

He ambled over hopefully.

"I'm sorry I was mean to you," she said, standing and putting her hands on his waist.

"I deserved it. . . .Well, kind of."

"How can I make it up to you?" she said, giving him a brushing kiss on the lips.

"That was a good start," he said.

"Better?" she said, putting her tongue in his mouth.

"Much," he said, grabbing her and kissing her harder, lifting her a bit off the floor. Things started to get a little hot.

"Ahem," a male voice said.

They stopped kissing—House put Cuddy down; she landed with a tiny thud on the ground—and turned guiltily in the direction of the voice.

House's whole team was standing there, their arms folded, grinning at him.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt," Kutner said. "But we think we may have figured out a way to save our patient."

"I highly doubt that," House said.

"We just didn't know how…busy you were," Taub said with a smirk.

"Well, looks like I am!" House said. "See ya!"

"Nice try," Cuddy said, patting House on the shoulder. "Get back to work!"

He rolled his eyes in dismay. "You guys had to pick this one time to come up with a good idea?" he groaned, reluctantly following his team out of her office.

"I had no idea you and Cuddy were so…close," Taub said to him, once they were in the hall.

House gave a half-shrug—not quite denying it, not quite agreeing.

"Lucky bastard," Thirteen and Kutner said, in unison.

#####

The next day, around lunch time, Cuddy passed four of her male doctors sitting at a table with one of the regular drug reps, named John.

"Hey, Dr. Cuddy," John said, as she passed. "Can I talk to you?"

A tiny titter went through the group.

She stopped.

"What's up?"

He stood, shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I was, uh, wondering if you'd like to go out with me?" he said.

She smiled.

"I don't date people I work with," she said, starting to walk away.

"That's not what I hear," John said.

She stopped.

"I'm sorry?"

"Or we could skip the date and go right to my place," John said knowingly, as the table tittered some more. "I understand you prefer it that way."

She felt her face get red.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing…just from what I hear you're a great first date," he said, winking. "Very giving."

"Who told you that?"

"Word gets around. Clearly Dr. House isn't the only one who should benefit from your…talents."

"How dare you talk to me that way! I could have you fired!"

"I don't work for you," he reminded her.

"I know your boss," she said.

He smiled, like it was all a big joke.

"Look, don't get all bent out of shape, Dr. Cuddy. You can't blame a guy for asking."

She turned to the other men at the table—all of whom did work for her. They were cringing a bit.

"Do you know anything about this disgusting rumor?" she said.

They all looked down at the table.

"Barry?"—Dr. Barry Kornacki, a neurologist she was pretty friendly with.

"John's just being an ass," he said. "As usual."

"And the rumor?"

"Men talk," he said. "Don't blame House. So he boasted. Who wouldn't?"

Cuddy felt physically ill. House had bragged about her as some sort of sexual conquest? Going into details about her "talents"? She was, frankly, shocked and disgusted. This didn't jibe at all with the House she thought she knew—who had a streak of chivalry that was downright old-fashioned.

"Let's focus more on work and less on my private life, shall we?" she said, gathering herself. "I'm contacting HR and having them set up a special sexual harassment training session for the four of you."

"We attended that already!" one of the doctors moaned.

"You obviously weren't paying attention," she said. Then she turned to John: "As for you, I will be requesting a new rep from the drug company. And telling your boss why. Good day."

She walked away, trying not to appear rattled. But this was exactly the sort of treatment from her male employees she had always dreaded. When she got to her office, she closed the door, went into her private bathroom, and cried.

#######

The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced it was some sort of misunderstanding. If House had told Wilson some of the details of their night, that was forgivable. She had told one of her friends from yoga ("I just had one of the greatest sexual experiences of my life and if I don't talk about it I might actually burst"), he was entitled to talk to a friend, too. And maybe Wilson had told a friend who had told a friend and the rumor had gotten distorted, turned salacious, ugly. She decided the best thing to do was to ask House directly.

She was heading to his office when a woman—completely out of place in the hospital, highly made up, teetering on high heels—approached her.

"Dr. Cuddy right?" the woman said.

Cuddy gaped at her.

"Brandy?" she said.

"You remembered!" Brandy said.

"You're kind of…hard to forget."

"I'm looking for Greg. Can you direct me to his office?"

Cuddy was shocked.

"You know you can't. . ."

"Oh, it's not what you think. I'm giving him a leg massage," Brandy said cheerfully.

"A leg massage?"

"Yeah, he says he likes my hands." She giggled. "So…his office?"

"Second floor," she said, still stunned. "Make a left off the elevator."

"Ta-ta!" Brandy said, teetering away.

Cuddy shook her head in disgust and stormed back to her office.

######

"Do you think you want to call your dinner date and see what's keeping her?" the waiter said.

"Na, she'll be here. She's just making me sweat," House said. "She thinks I deserve it."

He glanced at his watch. 8:30.

"Another scotch?" the waiter said.

House hesitated. "Why the hell not?" he said, with a shrug.

He drank the second scotch, ate a whole basket of bread sticks, and read and memorized every item on the menu. Then he looked at his watch again. 8:55.

Finally, he pulled out his phone.

"Ok Cuddy, lesson learned. I'll never blow u off again. Now get ur gorgeous ass down here. I'm starving," he texted her.

No reply.

He drummed his fingers on the table.

Then tried again: "Ok now I'm actually getting worried. WHERE ARE YOU?"

Finally, he called. The phone rang and rang and rang, but she never picked up.

The waiter came back over.

"Is it possible you guys got your lines crossed?" he said.

"Is it possible that you're an idiot?" House said.

The waiter pursed his lips.

"Actually, it's been over an hour," he said. "At some point, you have to either order or give up the table."

"Whatever happened to the customer is always right?" House grumbled, but he threw some crumpled bills on the table and left.

######

The next night, at about 9 pm, Lucas entered Sullivan's. The bar was loud and crowded and a bit disorienting. He scanned the room, then smiled when he saw her. She was sitting at the bar, her legs crossed elegantly, dressed tantalizingly in red.

"Hi," he said eagerly, sitting down next to her.

"Hi," she said, smiling demurely.

"I can't tell you how glad I am you called me," he said.

"And I'm glad you agreed to come. Come, let me buy you a drink," she said.

"Miller Lite," Lucas said.

"And a dirty Ketel One martini for me," she told the bartender. Then she turned to Lucas, "I never properly apologized to you for the way things shook out between us."

"Yeah, that was pretty brutal."

"I know. Suffice it to say, House doesn't bring out the best in me."

"Since I'm here and he's not, I take it things didn't work out between you?" he said hopefully.

"That's an understatement."

"I have a pretty good shoulder to cry on," he said tapping his shoulder. "But only this one. The other one sucks." He laughed at his own joke. "You want to tell me all about it?"

Cuddy took a contemplative sip of her martini.

"In short, you were right," she said.

"I love being right. Right how?"

"House is not ready to be in a relationship. Not even close."

"How so?"

"First he stands me up then he claims that I was the one who sent him a text to cancel."

"That's pretty easy to prove or disprove, either way," Lucas said.

"Exactly. Of course there was no text, because he made the whole thing up."

"How did he explain that?"

"He said he must've dreamt the whole thing."

"Wow. Weak excuse," Lucas chuckled.

"And that was just the tip of the iceberg," Cuddy said. "I found out that he was spreading vulgar rumors about me around the hospital. Boasting about his sexual conquests like some sort of horny frat boy."

"That is so sleazy," Lucas said, shaking his head in sympathetic disgust.

"I'll say," Cuddy agreed. "And then it turns out he was still seeing that hooker."

"Candy?"

"Brandy. Yeah, I bumped into her in the hospital. She was on her way to give him a massage."

"The happy ending kind, I presume?"

"Do hookers give any other kind?"

"I hate to say I told you so but…"

"You told me so," Cuddy agreed.

"Well isn't this cozy?" a gravelly voice said.

Both Lucas and Cuddy looked up. It was House, who had managed to limp his way toward them, unnoticed.

"Oh, great," Lucas said.

"What are you doing here, House?" Cuddy said testily. "Did you follow me?"

"Never mind that," House said. "What are you doing with him?"

"Having a drink," Cuddy said.

"Buzz off, House. Does the phrase three's a crowd ring a bell?" Lucas said.

House ignored him. "Why'd you stand me up last night?" he said to Cuddy.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask Brandy?"

"Brandy? What the hell does she have to do with this?" House said. "I haven't seen her in weeks."

"I saw her at the hospital yesterday, House. Stop lying to me!"

"House, just accept the fact that you've lost," Lucas said. "Cuddy finally sees your true colors."

"This is so none of your business, Pucas."

"Actually, it is my business. I'm with Lisa right now and you're obviously making her very upset."

"Oh, I'm just getting started!"

Cuddy stood up, faced House.

"You drive me crazy, do you know that?" she said.

"That's rich coming from you. Because you drive me crazy!" he said.

"I sometimes don't know if I want to kiss you or kill you!" she barked, pressing two fingers against his chest.

"Take your pick!" he barked back.

And with that, she grabbed him, hard, and kissed him roughly on the mouth. He kissed her back and soon they were making out right there at the bar, their hands all over each other.

When they parted, they both turned to Lucas, who was sitting there with his mouth open.

"It's really sad how all your dates end with me and Cuddy making out," House cracked.

Cuddy laughed.

"Sucks to be you, Lucas," she said, taking House's hand.

Finally, Lucas got it.

"You know," he groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"Of course we know," House said. He had lipstick smeared all over his face, which Cuddy had begun dabbing, unsuccessfully, with a napkin.

"Shit," Lucas said, almost to himself. "I really thought I pulled this one off."

"Not even close," House said. "Well, okay, actually pretty close. But not close enough."

"What you did was really mean and shitty and horrible," Cuddy said.

House smiled at her. "Yeah!" he agreed.

Lucas shrugged.

"You can't blame me," he said. "You interrupted my date and stole my woman."

"I was never your woman," Cuddy corrected.

"What was I supposed to do about it? Pout? Cry in my beer? I'm a man of action. So I acted."

'"A man of devious action," Cuddy said.

"It was some of my finest work," Lucas agreed.

"Explain one thing to me," House said. "I get that you called Brandy, paid her to recite some bullshit script. And you spread false rumors, claiming I started them. But how did you send those fake text messages?"

"Super secret private detective stuff," Lucas said. "I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill. But, uh, you should probably both change the passwords on your phones."

"You also owe me $7 for that beer," Cuddy said.

"Really Lisa?"

"I'm not in the habit of buying beers for assholes. Also, please go. I'd like to be alone with my real date."

"Here," Lucas said, angrily slapping the money on the bar. "I'll leave. But ask yourself this, Lisa: Why were you so quick to believe every crappy thing I invented about him? Why were you so quick to believe he stood you up, acted like a misogynist pig, and continued sleeping with hookers? We both know why: Because you don't trust your instincts about him. And you don't trust him either."

"Shut up, Lucas," House and Cuddy said, in unison.

He shrugged.

"Fine," he said. "Enjoy your shitty, fucked up, codependent lives together!"

"We intend to!" House shouted back, then thought about it: "But, uh, without the shitty and codependent part."

After Lucas left, House turned to Cuddy, beaming.

"I think I love Con Artist Cuddy most of all," he said.

"And I loved our little faux fight. It actually got me kind of hot."

"Oh. My. God," House said. He played with the hem of her dress where it met her thigh. "Let's get out of here," he whispered. "Unless you're hungry?" he added politely. "We could have dinner first. . .?"

"Dinner is so overrated," she said, grabbing him by the collar.

#####

About 24 hours earlier, House had showed up at Cuddy's house and banged loudly on her door.

"Cuddy, lemme in!" he bellowed.

"Go away!" she bellowed back.

"We need to talk!"

"No we don't!"

"I'm not leaving this doorstep until you talk to me!"

"Then I'll call the cops."

"No you won't!"

Cuddy sighed, put on a bathrobe and answered the door.

"How was Giovanni's?" she asked.

"You know how it was," he said. "It sucked. Where were you?"

"Here, obviously."

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a little bit to that whole Little Bird thing?"

She folded her arms.

"If you think this is about Little Bird, you're even more delusional than I thought."

House gave a stunned laugh.

"What else then?" he said.

"I know about those obscene rumors you spread about me!"

"What?"

She slumped her shoulders. "House, this is getting exhausting. Stop lying to me!"

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. What rumors?"

"You told everyone we had sex! And apparently went into disgusting detail about how skilled I am."

House's face turned several shades of crimson.

"Cuddy, I would never!"

He looked so appalled, she almost took pity on him.

"Come inside," she said. "The hospital is bad enough. No need for all my neighbors to know about our sex lives, too."

"Cuddy, I didn't tell a soul," he said, once inside.

She put her hands on her hips.

"Not even Wilson?"

"No! No one!"

"Well, you must've told someone, because it was all over the hospital. One of the drug reps propositioned me."

The veins began bulging in House's neck.

"Which one? I'll kill him."

She looked at him.

"Alright, calm down," she said.

"So that's why you stood me up?" he said, still puzzled.

"Not just that. I also bumped into your little whore in the hospital today."

"Thirteen may be a little promiscuous but I'd hardly call her a whore. . ."

"Not Thirteen. Brandy."

"What?!"

"She was about to give you a massage."

"That is just a bald-faced lie."

Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"Enough with the theatrics, House! It's not like you."

House scratched his head.

"None of this makes any sense. I never said a word about us to anyone, I haven't seen Brandy since two weeks ago, and I would never stand you up. It's almost like someone's messing with—"

Then he stopped.

"I'm an idiot," he said.

"No arguments here."

"Don't get too smug. You're an idiot, too."

"Hey!"

"It was Lucas. It was Lucas all along."

"I'm not following you."

"He's a professional private eye. And a professional weasel. He must've stolen my cell phone—or something. And he's the one who started the rumor about us and hired Brandy."

Cuddy made a face.

"That's a pretty convenient theory, House," she said.

"Only because it makes perfect sense," he said. "I interrupted your date and ended up making out with you while he was sitting in the next room. Do you really think he was just going to take that sitting down?"

She furrowed her brow, thinking it over.

"I suppose. . ."

"Cuddy, I finally grew the balls to ask you out, had one of the best nights of my life with you—why on earth would I sabotage that?"

She smiled, despite herself.

"That was one of the best nights of your life?" she said.

"Top three, easily," he said.

She folded her arms.

"I guess it does make some sense…" she admitted.

Just then, House's phone buzzed.

He looked down, shook his head in disbelief.

"You just sent me a text," he said.

"I what?"

"'Drop dead, House. You're a pig and I never want to see you again,'" he read. Then he looked up. "I think he really captured your voice."

"Let me see that," she said, yanking the phone from his hand. Her eyes widened, "Holy shit! It really is Lucas."

"Told you."

"Oh my God, House. I owe you a huge apology."

"It's not your fault. We got played. Both of us."

"N0, I shouldn't have believed the worst about you. I should've gone to you directly, talked to you."

He shrugged.

"I haven't exactly given you much reason to trust me these last few years," he said. "But I want that to change."

"Me too," she said.

"Come here," he said—and much to his relief, she went to him, folded into his arms.

He sighed, kissed the top of her head.

"You feel good," he said.

"So do you," she said.

He leaned down and kissed her on the lips.

Both her nightgown and robe were made of a thin cotton and he was having a hard time not getting excited as he touched her slender back, tasted her mouth and tongue.

He stopped kissing her.

"It's 10 pm," he said. "You should get dressed. Giovanni's is probably shot. But we can at least go to one of those 24 hour diners."

She wrinkled her nose.

"You really want to get dinner?" she said, grabbing his ass. "Because I can think a few other things I'd rather do."

"You truly are the perfect woman," he said.

She giggled.

"I know."

"But we're going to be on our honeymoon before we have our first actual date."

It was a joke, but her heart melted a little bit all the same. Gregory House talking about a honeymoon—with her.

"Let's go have lots of sex and plot our revenge," she said.

THE END