A/N - Forgive me for being away for so long. Readers of my paused fics, there's a special comment for you at the bottom of the page :-) (Nothing bad, cross-my-heart!)

Now, for this, I was watching All In, and felt a little inspired. It takes place around that time. It's a little two shot. Forgive me, the smut's gonna be in part two, which will be up SUNDAY. I hope you enjoy this, it's a little different from some of my other works. It's all from Cuddy's POV. I hope I've kept them in character.

Thanks for reading, and as always, I own nothing but a battered laptop with a missing 'n' key. DS owns everything, the lucky bastard, but I thank him for sharing his toys with us :-)

Chapter One:

Ante Up

Part of me wishes that I'd never made that stupid bet.

It was poker night, and I was with my boys. Jimmy, so sweet, so compassionate, so gullible next to Greg and me. We'd stripped him of his cash, and now, thanks to Greg, we were stripping him of his clothes.

And ours.

"It'll be fun," Greg had crooned, so sweetly manipulating us, like he always did. The puppet master, a cigar clenched between his teeth, a scotch in one had, his cards in the other, palm down on the table. "Shits and giggles."

"Shits and giggles," I'd echoed, having had one more gin and tonic in my system than I'd ought to have had, given the situation before me. "You just want to see me naked." Oh, God, where'd that come from. Stupid liquid courage. I'd get into these pissing contests, thinking I could best the boys, only to regret it the next day.

Oh, they'd never tell, but they let me know they'd remember, with winking eyes, knowing smirks, and subtle innuendo. But this is the first time that Greg'd mentioned removal of clothing. Usually, he'd just try to get me to say something he could use against me later, and I played the same game.

Jimmy'd turned bright red. He was in the uncomfortable situation of being in the middle of one of Greg's games. Metaphorically and literally.

"Nononono," he'd stammered, his blush reaching the tops of his ears. Greg and I had a small pile of cash in front of us, while Jimmy had nothing.

"Look, Jimmy." Greg had nonchalantly waved his cigar wielding had towards him. "If you don't you can't stay in the game. Ergo, the game ends." Those baby blues of his had never left me. "And, I don't feel like ending the game yet."

"Sorry," Jimmy shook his head, running a hand through those wavy brown locks. "I just don't feel like parading in my underwear in front of you guys."

"Oh," I giggled, the gin in my system making me feel oh so bold. I was the fucking Queen of Sheba at the table. "They way you're playing, we'll have you walking home naked." I took a puff on my own cigar, watching two sets of eyes grow wide at my comments.

Greg choked on his scotch. "Jesus, woman," he sputtered. "Next time, give a guy a little warning before spouting off like that." He gave me one of his piercing looks, but instead of contempt, I saw lust blazing in those baby blues. Good to know how I could turn him on at the drop of a hat, or word, as it was, like that. It seemed like he liked his women to talk a little dirty. "You're libel to give a man a heart attack, saying something like that." Or an boner. The thoughts blazing out of his eyes were clear as water.

Jimmy turned a shade of red so dark he was almost purple. Seriously, this man was Greg's best friend, but he became so embarrassed so quickly. It just wasn't natural. "You had to remind me of that," he muttered, softly, not happy that I'd called him out. He looked at Greg, the smug smirk seemingly permanently grafted on to his aristocratic features. "No way," Jimmy tried to declare, but the wavering in his voice told us both that we had him. Like two foxes cornering a wayward rabbit.

"C'mon Jimmy," Greg puffed on his cigar. Oh, I'm sure he was processing what I was up to. After all, we tended to keep things metaphorically under the table, as it was. Usually, he was the one to bring the innuendo to the table. I would shoot back my snarky replies, but this was always his game, his tease. Now that the tables had been turned, his over educated brain was trying to figure out what it meant. "It'll be fun," he told his friend, essentially, in his way, calling Jimmy a coward.

And it worked.

** ** ** ** ** **

"Okay," Jimmy sighed, and four hands in, we'd stripped Jimmy down to his socks and tighty whities.

Red faced and mortified, he slammed his hand down on the table. "I fold." He picked up his clothes. "I'm done," he declared, obviously embarrassed by us literally taking the shirt off his back. I had to admit, I was a little proud. When Greg and I teamed up, we were damn near unstoppable.

"Damn it, Jimmy," Greg whined, cigar clenched between his teeth. "You're no fucking fun."

"No, Greg," Jimmy sighed, pulling on his jeans. "I'm done, and I'm not parading around naked for your amusement." He gave Greg, who'd only lost his button down over shirt, a pointed glare. "I'm not showing up on your facebook page again. Especially not naked."

"Facebook is so last year," Greg pointed out. "I'd tweet that shit now."

"You have a twitter?" Jimmy was so clueless.

"Yup, and nearly 600 followers." He leaned back in his chair, like the king of the fucking castle. Smugness and arrogance exuded from him, filling up the room. The man didn't have a humble bone in his body. He gave Jimmy a look, lifting a grizzled graying eyebrow. "You're a chickenshit."

"And you're an ass," Jimmy grumbled, getting out of his seat. "'Night, Lise," he muttered, pulling his pants on. He sighed, "Same time next week?"

"Yeah," Greg answered for me. "Bring more cash."

"Technically, those winnings are my money, considering how much you owe me.
Jimmy continued to grouse, pulling on his shirt.

"Technicalities are for lawyers and administrators," he winked at me.

"Whatever," Jimmy sighed. "Lunch tomorrow?"

"Always. Now, get the hell out of my apartment."

Jimmy left, and I stretched in my seat. I'd lost my shirt, too, but I still had the camisole on that I wore underneath my blouse. The blouse had been the only article of clothing I'd lost.

I'd been the last one to show up at the game, so while the boys were in jeans and t-shirts, I'd come in my office attire. That fact had not been lost on the boys, especially Greg, who's eyes had been practically plastered to my cleavage all night. Even Jimmy had been sneaking peaks, but his presence had tempered the smoldering looks that Greg was now giving me.. So, now that it was just us two, the tension had risen to epic levels. "I should be going, now that the game is over." I didn't really want to leave, but the room was starting to feel stifling.

"Ah, Mistress of the Cunning Cleavage," he smirked at me. "I think the game is just beginning." I tilted my head, waiting for him to continue, but I kept my best poker face on. I wanted him to reveal his hand, before he realized I had no Ace in the hole. He cleared his throat, taking a sip of scotch. "I'm not ready to quit, yet." He eyed me, arching an eyebrow. "You're still fully clothed."

"You think you can beat me?"

He smirked, knowingly. "Judging by how much gin you've been drinking this evening, I'm certain I can get you down to your lacy thong." He looked at me closely. "Peach bra, peach thong," he snorted, causing me to lift my eyebrows in surprise. "I always thought red was more your color."

"How did you know..." I looked down, and I saw that the lace tops of my strapless bra cups were peeking out from my camisole. I put on my best poker face, trying not to get irritated. "You're on," I declared. "Shuffle the damn cards."

Four hands in, Greg was shirtless and sock less, and reluctantly stripping off his jeans. "How the hell am I losing to you," he grunted. "Belts should count." He muttered, undoing the buckle."

I just gave him on of my own Cheshire grins. I was beating the great Greg House at his own game; I could afford to be a little smug. "Take it off," I teased.

"You're the one that's supposed to be doing this," he continued to complain.

My eyebrows shot up. "Well," I deliberately sipped my drink. "You could start winning?" I used the same dry tone that I usually used when he tried to get out of doing his Clinic hours.

It was his turn to give me a sly grin, and my stomach sank at his look. I should have known better than to say something like that.

An hour later, I was in nothing but my thong and bra.

I sighed. "I fold."

My hand was shit, and he grinned. "You really had nothing that could beat a pair of threes?"

I blushed, and I shook my head, slightly embarrassed. But, I was a big girl, and these games come with consequences. I began to reach behind me, to unsnap my bra, but he shook his head and stopped me.

"I think it's time we up the ante."

"Oh, really?" I lifted a finely arched eyebrow. "What kind of game do you propose?"

He shuffled the cards, a lazy, Cheshire grin stretching across his lips. "I think it's time we go all in." He leaned forward. "I win, I get a lap dance. From You." My eye's widened, shocked, but he continued. "I want that perfectly plump ass shaking in my face, while you strip."

"You're an ass," I shot back. I bit my lip, and considered his offer, though. We'd been teasing each other all night, and now, here we were, in his livening room, both in our underwear. How did we get to this point? We were always very careful with our teasing, trying not to let it get out of hand, so, to reach this point...

"Are you gonna back out, or should I deal."

Stubbornness. That was the answer. Stubbornness, and a whole lot of mutual attraction, but for the most part, our unwillingness to be upstaged or outshown by the other. "I deal." He started to protest, but I stopped him mid-whine. "It's my ass on the line. Literally. I deal." My voice brokered no argument, but I felt none of the confidence I tried to exude. This was insane.

A knowing grin spread across his weathered features. He tossed the deck of cards at me. "Fine, then. Deal." I shuffled the cards like a pro, then held out the deck for him to cut. He looked at me quizzically, and I gave him a smug smirk. "Don't want to be accused of cheating when I win," I informed him. He nodded, his face becoming blank, then he cut the deck. I dealt our hands, then I fought to not hold my breath as I looked at my cards. Don't give him a tell. Don't blink, don't hold your breath, don't move a facial muscle, and for god's sake, don't toy with anything, I scolded myself, trying to keep my face blank, reminding myself that the bastard at the opposite end of the table picked up on everything.

"Praying mantis females eat the heads of the males after they mate." Sure enough, he'd pick that particular fact to share at this moment. Dammit to hell, I thought, frantically. He's got one hell of a good hand. He only tosses out facts like that when he knows he's got me. FUCK. I had a the makings of a good hand, a pair of nine's, and an Ace, which were high.

I looked up at him, and he had a roguish grin on his face. "Are you afraid that I might do that?"

I watched him pale slightly, then grin. "You would've done that the first time around." He winked at me. "Show me your hand, sweetheart. I hope you're handicap accessible."

"That confident, eh?" I responded, giving him a shrewd look. "How do I know you're just not trying to get me to fold?"

"The yoga mat you keep in your office means you fold nicely. I can only hope that means you'll fold for me." He tapped his long, elegant fingers on his cards, which were lying face down on the table. "I have dreams about your sweet ass, you know."

"Why doesn't that surprise me," I rolled my eyes. I'd endured enough of his comments about my ass on a daily basis. I looked at the cards I'd flipped over on the table. I still had my pair, but the cards wouldn't help me. Summoning up all of my confidence, I showed my hand. "Hope you can beat my pair." I jiggled my chest for emphasis, then sat primly in my chair, hoping he'd been bluffing.

A wolfish smile spread over his features. He grinned, showing his teeth. Suddenly, I felt like Little Red Riding Hood, and Greg was a very intimidating, very scary Big, Bad Wolf.

"How are your pole dancing skills," he asked, his eyes widening with feigned innocence as he flipped over his cards, one at a time, enjoying drawing out my nervousness. Oh why in the hell had I agreed to this? What was going through my mind. This was a huge mistake, but I couldn't back out. My stubborn pride would not let me, but it wouldn't keep me from regretting this...

He revealed his cards with the precision of a brain surgeon, but with the flair of a magician. For a moment, my mind drifted at how skilled those long fingers were, and the wicked, wicked things they could do to me.

We'd shared a night once, but we'd been young, in college. I hadn't know then, but he'd spoiled me on lovers. Now, with twenty years of experience under our belts, I couldn't help but wonder if it would be even more intense, or if it was just wishful thinking on my part...

"Jack." His voice jarred me out of my thoughts. "Deuce." He flipped over another card with a flourish. "Ace." Then, the smug smirk that usually rested on his lips. "Ten of diamonds." He hesitated, watching me closely. There was a feral glint to those intense blue eyes. He had me. My stomach dropped, and he flipped over the card. "Ten of hears." He leaned back in his chair, and suddenly, I felt like a very small fish in the presence of a very big shark.

A/N -

For readers of my fics, A Cold Winter's Eve, London Fog, and Fragile Illusion...

I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU!!!!!

I have been EXTREMELY BUSY, and have had internet problems. Which sucks. Rather than having you wait a month in between posts, I'm asking for your further patience, and I am trying to actually finish my fics (or, get far enough ahead in them), so I can post them in a steady rhythm. I hope you can forgive me for this extended hiatus, which was NOT planned. As soon as I have a comfortable margin, I will begin posting them again.

I miss writing, and I hate that RL has become a pain. *Sigh* I wish I could live in my fantasy world 24/7, but alas, I cannot.

Thank you for bearing with me. You, the ever important reader, is why I do this, and I hope you find it worth it.

Yours in Service,

ImNC