You don't know how it happens. (Well you do. You're not a complete moron. But it's just too easy to let it—and better to feign ignorance.) But somehow or another, you just keep ending up sleeping together.

They flirt over dead bodies. Not intentionally or obviously—they mean no disrespect—but they do it all the same. After all, it has to happen somewhere.

The boys hatch the plan. Angela adds a few necessary adjustments and feminine touches. And just like that, the super-secret special set-up mission is set to commence.

You could say the story began with a pretend prostitute and an over-zealous philanthropist. (In effect, maybe it did.) But the turning point wasn't until much later.

You're starting to ship your boss and her detective in a sorta strange all-encompassing, soul-shattering kind of way. It would help if they didn't make it so easy-and if they weren't being so secretive about the fact that they're very obviously getting it on.

At first, they were all things that could be reasoned away. If she squinted and didn't put too much effort into the logic.

'Me and her...' She jabs a thumb in Maura's general direction. 'We're nothing. Not anymore.' She almost has herself convinced.

Her observation about weather and liver temperature marches straight into 'I had a dream about you last night' like they're both floats in the same parade. Rizzles one-shot.

Now, on an average night in the Rizzoli-Isles household, Jane was something of a bedtime rock star. But tonight. Tonight was far from average.

For Jane, it was a chore; for Maura, an anthropological expedition. They had walked in hand in hand and had left the same way—that much was a success. The actual assembly, however, was proving to be a different matter.

Her internet search history is that of a crazy person. Or a teenage girl, maybe. But it's definitely on the fine line between the two.

There they are. Sitting neatly on a plate in the middle of the counter. All innocent. And yet they reek of pure, baked evil.

'Trouble sleeping? Self-stimulation has been known to help relieve both stress and insomnia.'

He was conceding to this whole shopping thing, but he wasn't going to like it or make it easy. And he most certainly had a plan. House/Cuddy one-shot

This time, there was evidence, and the halls were vibrating, practically shimmering with speculation. House/Cuddy one-shot

Why do you always have to punish the rest of us by giving him more clinic hours? HouseCuddy

The door opens with a practiced bang and the swift scent of cherries. HouseCuddy oneshot

Darkness implied shade and sleep, but this was something else entirely: a painful prism that burst like fireworks into a dozen shades of smoking, sparking red. HouseCuddy

Anger, much like her many well cut suits, was something Cuddy wore strikingly well. HouseCuddy

The continual game between House and Cuddy develops a whole new set of rules.

Sequel to Wrestling Emotions

“And let me wring your heart for so I shall, If it be made of penetrable stuff.” William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Sequel to Shattered Paradise. Even a normal life has its dangers...

While in a hotel after a mission, Sydney gets some unexpected room service...

Sequel to The Dream

Epilogue added! What starts out as only a dream slowly becomes reality.

Sydney's life has become cold, but Vaughn helps bring some warmth to it.