WE ALWAYS FIND EACH OTHER

By The Madhatter

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Blah blah blah. They belong to David Shore and Fox.

Rating: K+

Pairing: House/Cuddy

Spoilers: Pretty much anything from the first two seasons. More specifically from the episodes "Who's Your Daddy?", "All In," "Need to Know," "Humpty Dumpty," "Honeymoon," "Babies and Bathwater" in that order.

A/N: I stole this famous line from Alias. Actually, I used two lines from Alias (well, I modified the second one) and if you can spot it, props to you. I couldn't resist. If you hadn't already figured the famous Alias quote out from the title, you'll understand once you read this. Hopefully this makes sense. If not, I have completely failed as a writer and deserve to never write again. So, I'd love to hear how I did – the good, the bad and the ugly side of it all. Thanks! Enjoy.

-----------------------

It used to be a joke.

It started out as playful banter between the two of them, but over time, it turned into a source of comfort and help through the scattered, battered years of their friendship.

And it was just beginning.

--

"House!" Cuddy barged into Coma Guy's room, a file in one hand.

"Shh!" He held a hand up, eyes glued onto the TV in the corner. Cuddy placed her hands on her hips, glaring at the Diagnostician sitting in a plastic chair, feet propped up on the bed, munching on a sandwich. "I knew it! She had to be a lesbian!" He glanced her way. "Not you. Although… that'd be kinda hot if you were. I'd get my own private show, starring you and Cameron, maybe… And stop glaring, you're turning me on even more."

Despite Cuddy's best efforts, she let an amused smile slide by as she tried to maintain her anger. "Why the hell did you prescribe a drunken, hung over man more alcohol?" She slapped the file against his chest.

"He clearly wasn't drunk enough for my taste. Figured he needed a little boost."

"Just because you like to self-destruct, doesn't mean everyone else should."

"Riiight. It's my fault that he caught his wife cheating on him when he came home, and he decided to drink himself to death."

"How'd you figure that?"

"He always kept touching his empty ring finger, which still had the indent from his wedding ring, so he had only taken it off recently. He was drunk and mumbling something about 'wife is a whore' and 'slutty woman'. I think that kinda gave it away. What do you think? Think I should've kicked his sorry ass out on the street?"

"I think you should be trying to help people, rather than making them worse."

"Oh no. His wife pretty much did that for me. What about you, you gonna make my life worse?"

"I could."

"But you won't. Well, I'm already in hell anyway, so why bother, right?" Cuddy glared again. "Relax, I told him to drink himself to the point where he can't even tell his own penis from a worm, and then sleep it off and take some Advil. That should get him through the worst part of it, right?"

"House!"

"I love it when you say my name like that. I get all tingly inside."

Cuddy sighed in frustration and threw her hands up. "Why do I even bother?" she muttered.

House smirked. "You know, I've got a great prescription for all of this tension of yours. It's called sex. I've been told that it's a great stress reliever. Of course, I've never seen it that way, I'm just in it for the fun, but you never know, it just might do the trick. You should try it some time." He paused. "You know, Chase has always had these fantasies about you –"

"—Let's stop there, House." She managed a glare as her face flushed. "Thanks for your… advice. But I'm not done with you."

"Ooo! Are you gonna have your wicked way with me now? I must say, I didn't think you were one for an audience," indicating Coma Guy, "but hey, I'm game."

"House…"

He grinned. "Watching you is better than General Hospital any day. So, how'd you find me anyway? Did Wilson or Cameron rat me out?"

"Chase –"

"—Damn Brit –"

"—made a suggestion. Wilson's far too loyal, and Cameron doesn't know your hiding places as well as I do." She smirked. "You should know by now, I'll always find you."

--

"You don't have to hide the tears, I won't tell anyone. I promise," House greeted as he made his way down the hallway. He frowned when he didn't receive a response from the still form in front of the large glass wall in front of the Nursery in the Maternity Ward. "Cuddy?"

"I'm," she hiccoughed, "fine."

He stood next to her, staring at her profile as tears continued to stream down her face. "Here." He produced a packet of tissues out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"Do you… always have these on hand?" she managed to get out between sobs.

"Only when damsels are in distress." He was delighted when the corners of her lips turned upward in a watery grin, then looked away as she wiped the tears and mascara away. His attention focused on the babies on the other side of the glass partition. "So, why did you really come to my office?" he asked quietly.

"I…I'm not sure. I don't know what I want anymore."

"Yes, you do. You're Cuddy. You always know."

She shook her head. "Not this time…"

"Riiight. We'll blame it on the hormones." He let her off the hook. As much as he wanted to grill her, to confirm his theory about paternity, he couldn't. Seeing Cuddy so… vulnerable threw him off his game. He wasn't used to this, seeing her emotions so raw, especially on a tough cookie like Cuddy. He wasn't sure if he wanted to witness this or if he was the right person to be here. She, of all people, knew that he could not comfort or console a single human being. And he'd be damned if he started right now.

"Thanks." She handed him the tissue packet back as she dried the last of her tears. "I'm a mess."

"To put it lightly, yeah." He grinned slightly at her glare.

"How'd you know I'd be here?"

He was grateful for the change in subject. Maybe she picked up on the potential awkwardness, or understood that he didn't know what to do – but whatever it was, he was glad. "Well, the lights in your office were still on and your purse still under your desk, so I knew you didn't leave yet. Considering babies have been the popular subject where you're concerned, where else would you be? Besides we –"

"—always find each other."

They smiled.

--

House let his fingers and imagination roam free over the glossy ivory and ebony keys of the piano in the lobby, letting the music wash over him, drowning him in its soothing touch. Wilson left just a few minutes before, saying that he needed to clear his mind from all those mental images of various animal penises. His eyes slipped shut as his head swayed from side to side, inhaling the magical sounds his fingers created. As he reached the end of the piece, he heaved a sigh.

"How long are you going to stand there?"

He heard the click of her heels on the floor and the swish of her long dress as she moved closer to him. "How did…"

"I have a sixth sense. I call it the Cuddy-o-Meter. It flashes red when you're angry or annoyed, blue when you're stressed, and green when you feel guilty. Right now, you're glowing green." He opened his eyes as she sat next to him on the piano bench. "Actually, your perfume did the trick."

"You play beautifully," she murmured as she ran her fingers over the keys. "It's too bad it clashes with your personality."

"At least it doesn't clash with my stunning good looks." He shot her a smug grin.

She eyed his appearance and shrugged. "You clean up well. The tux looks good on you. It's too bad you don't wear it at work."

"Wear the monkey suit every day?" He pulled an appalled face. "Hell no. I only wore this for Wilson."

"You're trying to impress Wilson now?"

"Don't be jealous." He smirked, eyeing her dress. "Although, I'm wondering who you were trying to impress tonight, Doctor Cuddy."

"It sure as hell wasn't you."

"Who? Wilson? Don't tell me the two of us are fighting over James!" He made a mock-astonished look, then winked. "But don't worry, it'll be our little secret." He paused. "Unless… it was Rydell over in Radiology, wasn't it? He was leering at you all night."

Cuddy raised an eyebrow and let out a short laugh. "Rydell? Oh, hell no. He was so drunk, I don't think he could tell breasts apart from a penis."

"Well, fortunately for me, I can." House smirked. "So, what do you say we make a night of it and –"

"House—"

"—get a drink?"

She sighed. "Didn't you have enough tonight?"

"Nope. Didn't have any, actually. Okay, maybe a little bit, but I was working, remember? Couldn't drink on the job."

Cuddy looked down at the piano keys and watched his hands idly play a tune she could vaguely recognize.

"That's the problem, isn't it? Ian."

"I…"

"The Cuddy-o-Meter is going on overload." He made siren sounds and twirled his finger in the air like police lights. "We have a Code Green. Guilt overload. I repeat we have a guilt overload. Duck and cover before it explodes everywhere."

"House…" As much as she tried, she couldn't stop the laughter bubbling in her chest from bursting out. Tears threatened to leak out of the corner of her eyes as she bent over in laughter.

"Uh, it wasn't that funny, Cuddy." He stopped playing and stared at her. "Well, now we know who drank too much tonight."

She leaned against him as her laughter subsided. "You're funny…"

"Looking?"

Her laughter bubbled up again as House rolled his eyes and resumed playing the piano. When it finally died down, she placed a hand on his bicep. "Thanks. I needed that."

"You know where to find me. The Funny Looking Piano Man. I'm here every Tuesday and Thursday night, from eight to nine p.m."

Laughter erupted from her again. He smiled inwardly at the melodic sound as his hands carried them off into a magical state.

--

"Not you, too. I already got a lecture from Wilson, and I don't need to hear your screeching guilt trip."

Cuddy studied House's silhouette against the fading sky. He sat on the ledge of the roof, back pressed against the rising slant of the roof, ankles crossed, hands folded almost reverently in his lap. His face turned away from her, blue eyes peering in the distance. The symbolism of him sitting on the edge wasn't lost on her. She leaned on her forearms at the ledge, next to House's feet, staring at down at the lawn and lampposts surrounding her precious hospital.

"No lecture this time," Cuddy said softly.

No words were necessary in order to understand the gravity of the situation. Stacy left for good this time. No turning back. So, here she was, silently supporting her friend in his time of need. He may not appreciate it right now, and want to be alone, but Cuddy wasn't leaving. Not this time, not ever. Despite their disagreements, House always demonstrated his support in unconventional ways that only made sense to him, but the point was the principal of the matter.

She felt something poke her shoulder and she turned to find House trying to get her attention with his cane. He shifted the cane to point in the direction of the sunset. The sky turned pink with a splash of orange as purple clouds outlined the falling ball of light. A slight breeze ruffled her hair as the glowing ball disappeared behind the tall buildings in the horizon.

Cuddy realized this was the end of a long struggle. He could finally let go and move on with his life, or as much as he would let himself anyway. She was startled to find his intense gaze settled on her, or at least in her general direction. Flashes of emotions flittered across his eyes from loneliness, sadness – regret? – relief, and a small glimmer of something unfamiliar. Hope? Cuddy couldn't remember the last time she saw that on his face.

House tilted his head back to lean against the cold tile roof, letting his eyes slip shut. She understood that gesture, he was tired. Emotionally, mentally and physically tired of the events of the last few weeks. Not that she could blame him. The emotional upheaval of Stacy brought a whirlwind of problems, and now she had to go on a hunt for another lawyer to represent House and Princeton Plainsboro. Work never stopped.

She resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, and turned her attention back to the Princeton grounds underneath them, taking comfort from it. At least he could start to heal, maybe find some sort of middle ground to stabilize. That was all she ever wanted for him – to step back from the edge.

Cuddy turned as she heard him shuffle and the thud of his feet and cane planted firmly on the ground. He glanced back at her one last time, conveying his gratitude, before heading out the door.

Maybe she'd get her wish after all.

--

House pulled his bike up beside her house, jeans and socks soaked from the rain beating down on him and the puddles he sped through to get here. Whipping off his helmet, he allowed the rain to sprinkle his face for a moment, before slowly trudging up to the front door. He pulled out a small brass key from inside his leather jacket and slid it into the lock. He grinned as he door opened to Cuddy's house for the second time that day. Not bothering to check the rest of the house, he went straight to the back door, noticing the pot under the drip from the roof in the kitchen, before setting his helmet down on the counter and sliding the door open.

He stood under the small hangover of her roof, staring at the nightgown-soaked figure standing under the rain. Her dark curls stuck to her body in a protective cocoon. Her nearly transparent nightgown clung to her body, showing off her curves. The water droplets created a white glow around her frame, almost making her appear heavenly. House ignored the strange stirrings in his chest and lower region, and opted for two Vicodin pills instead, swallowing them dry.

For once, House cursed his inability to comfort people as she looked so helpless and lonely underneath the crying sky. He could almost see the rain stripping away her pain, peeling them off layer by layer. Guilt, loneliness, remorse, doubt… slowly slipping away with the water, pooling around her bare feet. She was cleansing herself.

He carefully made his way to stand beside her and looked up at the sky, letting the rain drops cleanse him as well. "I'm not giving your key back, if that's what you're thinking." He pulled it out of his pocket and held it out in front of her, flat in his palm. "See? Mine. Finders keepers." He frowned when she didn't rise to the bait, and closed his fist around the brass object.

Cuddy shrugged and shook her head. "I figured as much," her voice tinged with defeat. "Even if I did manage to get it back, you probably already made a copy. At least now I don't have to find another hiding spot."

"Oh, stop it. You're making me blush." He pocketed the key once again, patting its hiding spot. "Don't worry, I'll only use it whenever I need to steal food from you, or rifle through your underwear drawer."

She frowned. "I noticed I was missing a red thong. You wouldn't happen to know where that is, would you?"

He gave her a mock-innocent face. "I hope you're not implying what I think you're implying." He paused. "Wait, that was red? It looked pinkish-red to me. Oops."

"House…" She sighed. "Whatever. Keep it for all the good it'll do."

He frowned. "You're ruining the game here. One-sided arguments aren't fun."

She didn't reply, just continued staring at the droplets exploding on contact with the ground.

He sighed, glancing down at her. "I meant what I said in your office earlier."

"What, about you and I having sex?"

House grinned. "We still have to try out that theory. But you know what I mean."

She sighed. "Yeah…"

"You're a good person, Cuddy."

"Just a lousy doctor."

House didn't reply. He thumped his cane on the ground a few times, thinking of a way to rectify this situation. "I've always heard that sex is a good way to cheer up and warm up in this weather."

She groaned. "Don't you ever think of anything else?"

"Your see-thru gown isn't helping much."

She glanced down at her appearance and folded her arms across her chest defensively.

"That's not helping either." Cuddy glared. House couldn't help but grin at her narrowed eyes as rain dripped off her nose, dark curls clinging to her face. It was almost… cute. He immediately banished the thought from his head and desperately tried to ignore the pang in his stomach. "We should probably go inside."

She nodded. "Yeah. I'll make us hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate?"

Cuddy shrugged. "My mom always made it when it rained. It calms me down."

"I get your spare key, your thong, and now your mom's famous hot chocolate… what a day. I can't say I'm complaining."

"You're doing the dishes."

He groaned. "Cuddy…"

"Nope. No excuses this time. Or you can volunteer to do an extra hour of clinic duty."

"Volunteer?" he snorted. "I'll take the dishes." His face lit up. "Hey, are you gonna make it wearing that nightgown?"

"Don't push your luck, House."

"You can always cook in the nude. I hear it—"

"—does a body good to shut up!"

He grinned. Yep. She was back. And he didn't even get a lecture about riding in the rain. Excellent.

--

Cuddy found him sitting on the bottom row of bleachers on the lacrosse field. She slowly approached him, not wanting to scare him or violate his privacy, yet giving him enough time to turn her away. When he didn't react, she sat next to him silently.

"How did you find me?" House asked, his voice hoarse and low. "I didn't think anyone would or could."

"Your car was still in the structure," she replied quietly. "Hard to miss that fire engine red corvette. And I didn't think you walked to any nearby bars. Wilson left hours before you did so you didn't hitch a ride with him. I figured you wanted some silence in a place you felt free yet in control… and I knew you liked lacrosse so I gave it a shot."

"Very nice deduction, Doctor Cuddy." He managed to retort, but his tone lacked the effort and spirit.

"Actually, Wilson helped," she admitted sheepishly. "I… We thought you shouldn't be alone, and since I was still at the hospital, I volunteered to be the one."

"Thanks, Mom," he said bitterly. "I don't need you or Daddy Dearestto babysit me."

Cuddy felt her face flush in anger, but kept it in check. As much as she wanted to lash out at House, she couldn't, not when he was in this state. It wouldn't accomplish anything. So, she resorted to another tactic.

"You still love her, don't you?" she asked quietly.

The anger in House's face drained away and he looked as defeated as Cuddy had ever seen him. She definitely hit a sore spot. Maybe she shouldn't have asked…

House remained silent for a moment, before pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and handing her a small picture. The photo looked like it was taken in a small picture booth in the mall years ago. The edges were yellow and worn, with a very happy Stacy laughing and a crazy House pulling a funny face encased inside. Cuddy smiled sadly at the cheerful moment captured forever in a single shot.

"What does that tell you?" he replied to her original question, looking down at the grass, tapping his cane, almost in a nervous fashion Cuddy noted.

Yes. He still loved her. Probably despite his protests. She sighed inwardly. This was going to be a long struggle. She handed the picture back silently and watched him put it back in his wallet carefully. Suddenly, Cuddy felt out of place and wished Wilson was here instead of her. She shouldn't be entitled to this… it was too personal. House should be at a bar, drowning out his sorrows with his best buddy, not sitting on a field with her, sharing some of his intimate moments.

This is a mistake. I should leave him to his thoughts. She moved to leave, when she felt a hand land on her shoulder. Turning around, she was surprised to see House so… confused and lost. For the first time in her life, she finally saw the true damage of Stacy's departure and re-entrance into his life. Somewhere, underneath the jumble of raw emotions, she saw him silently pleading with her to stay, and she understood. He didn't trust himself to be alone, not knowing what kind of actions he would take. And she'd be damned if she let him.

Cuddy sat back down and, on impulse, placed her hand on top of his and squeezed gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

--

In a last desperate attempt, House flung open the door to the lecture hall on the second floor and found his target sitting in the middle of the fifth row from the front. The stairs looked daunting and he cringed just thinking of the journey down them to get to her. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the sudden darkness in the large room. The stage lights were the only source of any light, but not nearly as bright as those in the hallway he just came from.

"You really know how to pick 'em, don't you?" House said as he slowly and painfully sat down next to Cuddy, digging out two Vicodin and swallowing them with a wince. "And you really know how to torture a cripple. Stairs are a bitch. Consider that as punishment for losing your precious money."

"What do you want, House?" Cuddy asked tiredly. "I'm not in the mood to play any of your games."

"I would've taken the rest of the champagne with me, but the boys finished it off." He leaned back and placed his feet up on the seat in front of him.

"Feet off." Cuddy admonished, tapping his leg.

He shrugged off the threat, keeping his feet up, twirling his cane. "A long time ago, a very frustrated, newly promoted Dean of Medicine told me when she wants to be alone she sits at the fountain in front of the campus, stands at the top of the parking structure, or sits in a semi-dark lecture hall."

"I don't remember that…" Cuddy muttered. "You didn't really go to all those places, did you?"

"Of course not. I sent my lackeys to do it. Gotta make them earn their pay, right?" He leaned over and whispered, "Actually, I just wanted them out of my hair. Drunken Foreman and Chase aren't nearly as entertaining as annoying you."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "Go away, House. Go celebrate your victory somewhere else – away from me."

"No can do, boss-lady. I gotta repay my debt somehow."

"If you leave me alone right now, I'll let you off the hook."

"How about letting me off two days off clinic?"

"In your dreams. Go, before I change my mind."

He grinned. "Sorry, bum leg won't let me leave. Remember those stairs I took to get to you? My leg still hasn't forgiven you for that."

"I changed my mind. You can work two extra days of clinic."

House sighed. "Look, I appreciate what you did to keep me here, but do you really have to do that to me? Make me work clinic like that?"

"I didn't just do it for you. I did it because I couldn't stand back while a monster took over my hospital and run it like a cold, heartless business out to make billions. There are some things more important than money. And yes, I have to make you do your job, House. Clinic is a part of it."

"You think I'm more important that money? I'm really that special to you, huh?"

She scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. You're a pain in the ass, but you're a brilliant pain in the ass. That's the only reason I keep you around."

"I knew you liked staring at my ass!" He raised his cane up in victory. "Score one for the House-meister. It's what I've been telling the nurses."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I should beat you to death with your cane," she muttered, grinning slightly. Then, she placed her feet up next to House's and let out a sigh of relief. "Much better."

"Imagining my impending death?" He joked, then tapped her legs with his cane. "Feet off."

"It's my damn hospital, I can do whatever I want," she muttered, eyes slipping closed.

"Heh. I get it now… You just didn't want anyone else taking away your power. You like being in control. It gets you off."

"Yes, House. That's exactly it," she deadpanned.

House glanced over at her relaxed form, and then leaned further back in his chair. "That's actually kinda hot."

One dark blue eye peeked over at him. "You say that to everything."

Both of his eyes met her one-eyed gaze. "Not true. I don't think Chase's silk panties are hot, but that's just me. I think Cameron gets a kick out of it, though. Besides, everything about your body is hot." He looked pointedly at her chest and let his eyes drift over to her legs. "Oh yeah. Definitely hot." He slid his cane over the length of the skirt until the handle hooked the hem of her skirt and slowly pulled it upward. Cuddy's hand shot out, wrestling the offending stick out of his hands and sent him a death glare.

"Don't you dare."

He shot her a smug grin. "I was just testing out my theory of Cuddy-hotness. So, what's under there, huh? Black lace? Red thong? Or…nothing at all?"

Cuddy held out his cane threateningly. "Don't make me hit you."

He shrugged. "We both know we'd have too much fun with that. Why not just bribe me with the usual extra clinic hours? So, what is it, huh?"

"I'm not telling you!" Cuddy defensively held her skirt down. "And don't think for a second I'm letting you out of those two extra days you so gladly volunteered for."

"Damn!" He paused. "C'mon, just one peek? Pretty please?"

This time, Cuddy whacked him across the chest with the handle of his cane.

--

"Congratulations on your promotion, Doctor Cuddy. You deserve it."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Reynolds." Cuddy said sincerely with a smile plastered on her face. "And thank you for your generous donation. It makes all the difference."

"Every bit helps, right?" Reynolds winked. "Say, how about we talk more about this over dinner or something? I know a good place over on—"

Just then, Cuddy's phone rang in her purse. She frowned slightly at the unfamiliar number, but grateful for the interruption. God knew she had way too many men hitting on her and had more than enough schmoozing for the night. Excusing herself, she went out on the balcony to take the call.

"Doctor Cuddy."

"I believe a congratulations is in order, Doctor Cuddy."

The voice seemed vaguely familiar and after a moment, she recognized it. She let out a small sigh and ran a hand through her hair. Who could forget that smug voice, no matter the distance and the years in between? "Doctor House," she announced crisply. "It's been a long time."

"First woman as Chief of Medicine, yet second in her class. Tsk, tsk. You're slipping, Cuddy."

She leaned against the balcony, staring down at the grounds underneath her, wondering if answering the phone call was a mistake. "What do you want?"

"Isn't that a loaded question. I figured you needed a break from all those old men hitting on you, although you do look great in that red number of yours."

Cuddy glanced down at her attire. A simple flowing, red, spaghetti strap gown that showed off her best features. Not too bad, she agreed. "Thanks," she said reluctantly. "Wait… how do you know what I'm wearing? Aren't you in Baltimore? And don't tell me you hacked into some security camera just to stare at me."

She heard a low rumble and shuffling to her right. "Wouldn't that be creepy?"

Cuddy jumped back and nearly dropped her phone, eyes wide in shock, mouth gaping open. "H-how… in… the…" She snapped out of it and corrected her posture. "You standing right in front of me is creepy, House."

His face was half-hidden in the shadows, but she could make out half of the smirk on his scruffy face. "I give you an eight for that performance. It could've used a little work, but I'll be nice just this one time since it's your party."

House dressed in his usual blue jeans and rumpled light blue button-down shirt. She was sure he was leaning on his cane, but it was hidden by the shadows. "How did they let you in wearing that?"

"You should learn to lock your doors. Or at least get better security," was the only explanation he offered.

She shook her head and leaned against the balcony again. "Resorting to breaking and entering now? What happened? Got bored with the traditional way of bribing and blackmailing?"

"Nah." He joined her at the balcony. "This seemed like more fun."

She glanced over at him. He looked much better since the infarction, healthier at least, and he moved almost gracefully with the cane. "Why are you out so late just to scare me? Don't you have a significant other to get back to?" Cuddy asked casually.

"What about you? I don't see Marvin Whatshisface hanging on your arm," he shot back, clearly trying to avoid the subject.

She winced and looked down, not bothering to correct the name of her ex. "I see. You don't ask me, I won't ask you. No questions, no answers."

"You're smarter than you look."

"I could say the same about you, but I'd hate for you to take it as a compliment."

"It's nice to see some things haven't changed," he admitted quietly.

She caught his gaze, and he grinned slightly… almost embarrassed by the admission. "I guess…" she trailed off, feeling slightly awkward at the personal revelation. This wasn't how she and House operated. They fought and bickered, they hardly became personal. It was a… good change… sort of.

"Actually, I was thinking…"

"Don't kill too many brain cells." He winced at the lame come back and shook his head. "About giving me a job? Since I'm currently unemployed at the moment."

Cuddy shook her head, grinning. "You really are full of yourself, aren't you? And one of these days, I'm going to figure out how you can read my mind. But, yes, I was considering offering you a job… eventually."

"I knew you'd get around to it. You'll come to the right conclusion… eventually." House turned to move away.

"Is that all you came here for? A job?" she called to his retreating back.

He turned around, his blue eyes burning brighter in the moonlight, smirk on his face. "Of course. And for the dress. Hot stuff." Cuddy watched him continue walking further into the darkness until it engulfed him. "I'll see you soon, Cuddy," his voice drifting back to her.

--

Cuddy sat under a large tree, reading one of her textbooks as she munched on a sandwich. Her favorite spot in the entire Michigan campus. It was cool, calm, relaxing and somewhat isolated. Everything a college student needed to endure the stress and pressure of all the competition. She sighed, content in her performance in her classes so far and finally finding peace from her hectic life.

"Do you ever stop?"

So much for peace and relaxation. "Don't you ever stop being annoying, Greg?"

House sat down next to her, a broad grin plastered on his face. "Clever come back, Lisa. Thanks." He grabbed the other half of her sandwich and bit into it happily. "Did I tell you that you make the best sandwiches ever?"

"Every day you steal one from me," she replied dryly, pulling out another sandwich from her bag. Always be prepared. It was the Boy Scout motto, but she adopted it for her own purposes, especially in dealing with Greg House.

His face lit up with glee. "Is that for me?"

"No. Get your own."

"No one else likes me." He pouted.

"Now that's a newsflash. Gee, I wonder why."

"But you do."

"One day, I hope you find a friend that'll tolerate you and stealing their food." As she said this, House took the opportunity to snag the piece she was eating.

"Why, when I have you?"

She yanked the piece out of his hands and frowned when he managed to break off more than half of it. "Someone who is not me. I can't stand you!"

"That's too bad." He moaned in satisfaction as he sank his teeth into his larger half. "Seriously, forget about being a doctor and open up your own sandwich shop. You could make big bucks on these. Mmmm… If I ever get sent to death row, I'll request these as my last meal."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I'm glad you like them."

"I'm so serious." He swallowed a mouthful and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand "I'll help you set it up and everything."

"Greg, I'm going to be a doctor," she said sternly. "I'm not going to open up some stupid sandwich shop for your fantasy."

"I'll stop by every day and buy one," he offered hopefully, batting his eyelashes.

Cuddy fought not to whack him with her textbook. "You'd stop by every day just to annoy the hell out of me and then steal a sandwich. I'd lose more money from you than anyone else."

He shrugged. "At least you'll have one loyal customer."

She sighed and fiddled with a page in her book. "You're leaving soon, aren't you? That's why you're going through all the trouble of being nice to me and stealing my sandwiches."

"First off, I always steal your amazing sandwiches. Second, you know I'm not nice. Third, why, you gonna miss me?" he teased, grinning through his full mouth.

"Well, you're being nicer than usual. And no, I won't miss you or your arrogance. I'm looking forward to the day I can eat my own sandwiches in peace."

"And here I was going out of my way to butter you up, Lisa."

"Do you want me to fall at your feet? Throw myself at you?"

"Nah, your sandwiches will do." House stood up with a smirk. "You won't have to wait long to get your wish anyway. I'll see ya around, Lisa."

"If you're leaving tomorrow, how is that gonna work?" she called after him, ignoring the growing ache building in her chest.

"See, I knew you'd miss me!" He grinned triumphantly.

"Oh, get over yourself, Greg."

He turned around, fiddling with his sandwich. "We'll find each other." He smirked. "We always find each other." He tapped his nose with a grin. "Well, I'll find your sandwiches anyway."

--

Cuddy stared at the ceiling as the memories rolled through her mind. As much as she hated to admit it, House was right… again. They found each other, years later. This infuriated her to no end. Damn the man for being so smug yet so attractive at the same time. It was too much, but it was exhilarating.

"I can hear you thinking," came the sleepy voice next to her.

She rolled over and stared at the man beside her, looking pleasantly rumpled and oddly relaxed. Damn him. "Go back to sleep, House."

"Can't. Not with you thinking so loud. Come here." He pulled her across his chest and entwined his fingers with hers as the other hand caressed her spine. The sign of affection was definitely out of place, but she wasn't complaining. It was… comforting. "Now, stop thinking."

"Even if it's about you?"

"Only good thoughts. But right now yours are about how annoyed you are with me. I can sense it. Cuddy-o-Meter, remember? You're flashing red." He sighed, nuzzling her hair. "The whole point of this prescription was to relax."

She nestled into his chest and sighed. "I'm relaxed. Your prescription worked."

"Good." He held her tighter. "It should be taken at least twice a day, for as long as necessary, to achieve the maximum results."

Cuddy pushed herself up off his chest and raised an eyebrow. "Twice a day? You're pretty sure of yourself."

He grinned sleepily at her. "Oh yeah. Think you can handle it?"

"Damn you." She smiled against her will as he pulled her back down. "I think I can live with that."

"Good, 'cause I know you can't resist me."

A soft thud echoed in the dark room. "I hate you," came the muffled reply. "And wipe the damn smirk off your face or I'll show you a thing or two on resistance."

House grinned, sliding his hands down her back, squeezing her ass lightly. "I can't wait."

Another thump sounded, followed by a low rumble of a laugh.

Now, it was no longer a joke, but a promise.