"Now Cuddy," House turned to her, a serious expression on his face. "This is important."

She rolled over. The blue pinstripe shirt she was wearing bunched up around her waist as she did, her thighs becoming exposed. As much as he wanted to drool all over them, he held his gaze. She raised an eyebrow. "I'm ready."

He took a breath. "Cars or bikes?"

"Cars."

"Moron. Black or white?"

"White."

"Racist. Wine or beer?"

"Wine."

"Women. North or South?"

"South."

"Rats or rabbits?"

"Rabbits."

"Steve McQueen's turning in his grave. Cane or no cane."

"Cane."

"Good answer. Tits or ass?"

"Tits."

"No brainer. Chase or Foreman?"

"Chase."

"Predictable. And still racist. Heart or lungs?"

"Heart."

"Top or bottom?"

"Top. Obviously."

"Don't get smart with me, woman. Sex or... anything else."

"Sex."

"Big surprise. You make rabbits look celibate."

"We."

"What?"

"We make rabbits look celibate. It's a two person endeavour."

"And on that note, tennis or badminton?"

"Tennis."

"Purely for the outfits, of course. Circles or squares?"

"Circles."

"Interesting. Roses or lilies?"

"You don't know?"

"Beep! Out. Hesitation."

"Damn it," she hissed. "I was doing so well."

"Your answers were ridiculous." He scoffed. "Cars? You love the bike."

"I hate the bike. Or rather, I hate the death trap."

He shook his head. "I can't believe I like you."

"I can't believe I date you."

"I can't believe I'm still about to kiss you."

"I can't believe you think I'm about to let you kiss me when you don't know if I prefer roses or lilies."

House pressed his lips to hers, cupping one of her cheeks roughly. He lay her back on the bed, running his tongue along her teeth as his hand slid up her smooth thigh.

He pulled his lips off her and leaned toward her ear. "Roses," he whispered. "I'm not an idiot."

She smiled widely. "Not so fast," she said, stilling his hand. "It's my turn."

"Cuddy," House whined. "The game's not fun anymore."

She pushed him off her and onto his back, climbing on top of him and pinning his arms above his head. Obviously, he could have overpowered her, but he enjoyed seeing her in sex kitten mode. Her hair mussed around her head, eyes predatory, body pressed against him.

"I can make it fun," she purred. "I'll start classic. Tits or ass?"

"Ass." He gripped hers, hard. "Duh."

"Ten or - "

"Actually, both," he changed. "I can't decide. Oh no, I lose." He waggled his eyebrows. "Let's have sex now."

She slapped him lightly on the face. "You started this. Let's finish it."

"Bitch," he hissed, nipping her neck. "Why do we have to do this?" He whined.

"I like learning about you," she said, running her finger down his cheek. "You got to ask me things so it's my turn, logically."

"You said, sex over anything else!" He remembered, looking smug.

"We had sex before we played," she pointed out. "Don't act like you're sex starved. You were happy to ask me things, but when I ask you, you run from it."

"It's a game, Cuddy, not a psychological experiment."

"Then let me have my go," she said lasciviously.

"Fine."

"Blue or pink?"

"Blue." He rolled his eyes.

"Stop that. Windows or Apple?"

"Apple."

"Lions or tigers?"

"Lions."

"Puzzles or sex?"

"Sex."

"Wilson or me?"

"You."

"Really?"

"Always you, baby," he kissed her nose and waggled his eyebrows.

She smiled. "Good answer. Chips or fries?"

"Fries."

"Thirteen or Cameron?"

"You."

"Best answer. Jeans or sweats?"

"Jeans."

"Cake or cookies?"

"Cake."

"Silver or gold?"

"Gold."

"Summer or winter?"

"Summer. You in a bikini."

"Shh," she hushed. "But thank you. Playstation or Xbox?"

In a split second, about a thousand thoughts went through House's head: Cuddy doesn't like video games. We're going to have sex after this. I'm doing well on the compliments.

"You?"

"Nice try."

"I like it when you ride my joystick," he smirked.

"Spots or stripes?"

"Stripes."

"Tuberculosis or Tuber sclerosis?"

"Tuberculosis."

"Freak. Pajamas or not?"

"Not."

"Love or drugs?"

He paused. "You set this up."

"You said we should play."

"Still. It was probably subliminal sex messaging."

"Answer the question, jackass."

"You know my answer."

"Say it."

"Love," he said eventually. "I love you, snugglemuffin."

"I love you too," she kissed him deeply. "Happy third anniversary."

"Spent it just the way I like."

"In bed with me?"

"Naturally."

She kissed his chest and laid her head down. "I can't believe we made it three years."

"It's a long time," he agreed, "to eat only one type or muffin, if you get me."

"I get you." She said sarcastically. She exhaled.

"You're thinking about something deep," he stated. "I know that face."

"I wish... we could do something more," she looked at him expectantly. "Take another step."

"Oh God," he moaned. "Emotional stuff. This is why you have Wilson."

"House."

"Don't worry. We're serious enough."

"We could progress - "

"We've progressed enough, sweetheart."

"Don't push me, darling."

"I'm thirsty," he changed tack. "Can you get the champagne from the kitchen?" He gestured down to his leg, pouting.

She sighed, and kissed him. "Fine. But I'm dating a big baby."

She pattered out of the room, jumping lightly. She pulled the bottle out of the refrigerator, two glasses off the counter, and, after a moment of deliberation, the can of spray cream.

She wandered back in. House was laying on the bed, looking unbearably pleased with himself.

"Oh what?" She joked, placing the things at the end of the bed. She popped the cork, poured two glasses and climbed back on the bed. He was smirking.

"What?" She giggled, unnerved.

He shook his head. "Can you pass me my glass?"

She reached over, turning away from him. As she had her back facing him, she felt something small hit her in the middle of her back. "Hey Cuddy," House started.

Cuddy felt around for the object. She found it nestled in the covers, a white gold band set with three diamonds. "House - "

"Yes or no?"

She looked up, mouth slightly agape.

"Lightening round, remember?" He prompted lightly.

She looked at the ring, and then looked into his eyes, breaking out into a huge smile.

"Yes."