#1

It was her third day as a newly minted doctor, working her first rotation in the ER. So far that day, she had diagnosed the flu, chicken pox and dressed a minor burn; Cuddy had to admit, she thought the ER would have been a little more exciting. She mindlessly grabbed the next patient file, briefly glanced at it, and perked up just a bit; at least stitches were a little more involved than diagnosing the flu.

As she approached curtain number three, she looked for any information indicating the cause of the accident and towards the bottom of the triage report, Cuddy found what she was looking for. Some idiot sliced his forearm open trying to take apart a lawnmower.

She pulled the curtain back and inhaled sharply at the man who sat clutching his bloodied arm. "Ah-ha, you're the idiot."

House rolled his eyes, "So you've been a doctor for what, all of two days?"

Frowning, Cuddy set up a suture tray, "Three, actually."

"Do you even know how to use a needle?"

Cuddy donned a look of uncertainty and tucked in her bottom lip. Mockingly, she said, "Gee, I don't know. Good thing I have a human pin cushion to practice on."

House stood, clutching his arm, "I want a real doctor"

"I am a real doctor."

"I mean one who's been a doctor for more than three days."

"This coming from a guy who took apart a lawnmower. I thought you were supposed to be some hotshot genius."

"I needed a part from the lawnmower to fix something else."

"And I suppose it never occurred to you that you might slice your fingers off? A lot of good that would have done, DOCTOR."

"Ouch, hey, watch it," House said, as she prepped the area to be sutured, "You are going to numb it, right?"

"I don't think it's really necessary," she said with a wry smile.

"Like hell it's not."

"Oh shut up," she said, prepping the lidocaine injection.

"It's Cuddy, right?"

Cuddy cocked an eyebrow, shaking her head, "That's what it says on my name tag."

"Knew I saw that somewhere."

"Nevermind you dated my roommate for how long? A year?"

House shrugged, "She wasn't the one I was interested in."

Cuddy stopped cleaning the wound to look up at him intrepidly, "Oh really?"

He inhaled as she finished cleaning the gash, "Hey, watch it."

"Sorry, when was your last tetanus shot?"

"Last Friday."

Cuddy stopped what she was doing and looked up at him, "Well, that was lucky."

A corner of his mouth went up just a tad, along with an eyebrow, "Not really."

Cuddy readied the needle and positioned her hand above the gash, shaking slightly. "What do you mean not really?"

House pulled his pant leg up a bit, exposing his recently sutured ankle, "Lacrosse, slammed into the goal post and sliced it right open."

She looked up at him, hoping he wouldn't notice her hand shaking, "If you wanted to see me, you didn't have to keep injuring yourself until you wound up here on my shift."

House rolled his eyes, "You have done this before, right?" he asked, noting her shaking hand.

She exhaled nervously, "A few times."

"Where's my attending?" he asked, trying to hide the alarmed tone to his voice.

"Patient crashing in trauma bay two."

"Perfect," he said as he watched her angle the needle towards his skin. He tensed, anticipating the pain, "Wait, wait, wait. Here, like this."

House took the needle from her and showed her the first few stitches, "If you angle it too much, it'll be too taut. And make your stitches smaller and not so far from the edge. It'll reduce the scar size, like this." Cuddy nodded, grateful for his expert lesson.

"Alright, your turn," he said, passing the needle.

He watched as Cuddy stitched his hand with precise stitches, exactly as he had showed her, "That's it," he said with a hiss.

She tied it off and snipped the ends, "Okay, that's it."

He leaned forward and looked directly into her eyes, "So, you busy tomorrow night?"

She shrugged, "I don't know, I'm tempted to work tomorrow night just to see what idiotic injury you might come in with next."

"So, shouldn't you thank me?"

Knowing she should thank him for his patience in teaching her proper suturing technique, she quipped, "What for?"

"I can wait. You can thank me twice tomorrow night."

"Twice?"

"For the sutures and for the best sex you've ever had."