Author' s note: So this was going to be a one-shot, but it was getting quite long and it's not done yet, so I figured I'd post it as a two-parter.

A few thoughts/acknowledgements:

First, this is once again from a prompt from dear old gnortn (what would I do without her?). She said, what if Cuddy began dating a man who House actually respected, someone formidable? Also, I got a nudge from Megabby on Twitter, who pointed out that I do a lot more jealous!Cuddy than jealous!House.

Lastly, I know the first scene is VERY reminiscent of Insensitive. I always loved that moment in her office and it just seemed so THEM. So I kinda. . .borrowed it. Heh.

Hope you enjoy. It takes place Season 4ish.

Disclaimer: I know that Cuddy would never date a dweeb like Lucas, so I'm clearly not affiliated with the show.

House had gotten approval for a somewhat risky stem cell procedure and was beating a hasty retreat out of Cuddy's office, when something caught his eye. He stopped, raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you wearing a new bra?" he asked, suspicious.

Cuddy looked down at her shirt.

"How could you possibly know that, House?" she said.

"Your boobs are noticeably perkier than they were yesterday and—while the other men in the hospital would probably kill me for telling you this—we can all see right down your top."

Cuddy turned red, quickly buttoned the top button of her shirt.

House watched her.

"You know, they're called undergarments for a reason, Cuddy," he said. "You're supposed to keep them under your garments."

"Very funny," she said. Then she picked up her phone and asked, in a musing kind of way: "Let me get your opinion on something, House: Do you think I should file my complaint against you with human resources now? Or wait until after you've left my office?"

"You love the attention, Cuddy," he said, smirking. "And you know it."

She sneered at him.

"And it's not a just new bra, I see," he continued. "It's a new red bra. . .Pretty saucy color for the middle of the week, Cuddy."

"I wore it just for you. . . And, apparently, for all the rest of my male employees. Now stop obsessing over my . . garments, House, and go back to work."

But instead of leaving, he folded his arms, looked at her.

"You have a date tonight, don't you?" he said, the tiniest smile playing at his lips.

"None of your business," she said.

"Well, if you're hoping for a second date, I'd consider unbuttoning that top button again."

She looked back at him, her eyes flashing.

"It so happens that this isn't a first date. I've been seeing Ned for over a month."

"Ned?"

"Yes, his name's Ned Overstreet."

House furrowed his brow.

"Why does that name sound familiar?" he demanded.

Cuddy hesitated.

"I guess because he's kind of well known. . ." she said.

"Well known how? He's not one of those lawyers who advertises on the side of a bus, is he?"

Cuddy folded her arms.

"If you must know, he's an astronaut."

"Suuuuuure, he is. Is he also a handsome prince from a magical faraway land?"

Cuddy gave a "fine, don't believe me" shrug.

He squinted at her.

"You're serious," he said.

"As lupus."

"Astronaut astronaut? As in Neil Armstrong? As in Ground Control to Major Ned?"

"As in, just came back from the International Space Station six months ago."

House suddenly felt a bit queasy.

"And you've been dating Bud Lightyear for a whole month?"

"Yes."

"But why didn't you tell me?" All the edge was now gone from his voice. He sounded a little pathetic.

"Gee, I don't know House. . .why wouldn't I tell a man who relentlessly mocks and over-analyzes every aspect of my private life about my new boyfriend?" she said.

Boyfriend. House ever-so-imperceptibly flinched.

"And don't blame Wilson, either," she said. "He was sworn to secrecy."

"Wilson knows?"

"Actually, he's meeting Ned tonight. We're going on a double date."

He continued to stare at her, in shock.

"Don't look so hurt, House," she teased. "I know how much you hate change, but I promise, you'll always be the man in my life who annoys me most!"

#####

As he did once a month, Wilson slipped out of the hospital at lunchtime, and made his way to The Hair and Now salon in downtown Princeton. He relished these moments of peace and quiet, away from the relentless pressure of his job (and the even more relentless pressure of his exhausting best friend)—and he had just the tiniest crush on Julie, his stylist. He loved the way her fingers massaged his scalp.

He lay back in the chair, his eyes closed, as the hot water ran over his head and Julie's expert fingers got to work.

"Mmmmm, that feels good," he said.

"Because you're a woman and you're worth it?" the most annoying voice in the world intoned.

Ugh.

Wilson poked open one eye.

"How did you even know I was here, House?"

"I simply asked myself, what is the most womanly place on earth? Then I trusted my instincts."

"You followed me," Wilson said.

"Of course!" House said, with a grin. He sat down in the washing station next to Wilson, put up his feet.

"You want a haircut, too?" Julie asked, winking at him.

"No," said House, patting on his pants pockets, as though searching for a wallet. "I left my vagina in my other pants."

"What are you doing here?" Wilson said. Julie was still massaging his scalp, but the magic was gone. His eyes were now wide open.

"Just wanted to see how dinner went last night," House said breezily. He was now fiddling with the hoses on the salon sink. He pressed a nozzle and a spurt of water squirted onto Wilson's lap.

"Sorry," he said.

"So you know about dinner, huh?" Wilson said, dabbing his lap with the towel that Julie had handed him.

"Yeah. . .Cuddy told me."

House was smelling the shampoo now. He made a face.

"She mentioned something about a double date?" he said. "I didn't know your Aunt Mabel was in town."

"I took Jennifer," Wilson said.

"Who dat?" He smelled another bottle.

"Jennifer? The kindergarten teacher?"

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"I spent an entire lunch last week talking about my feelings for her. I thanked you for being such a good listener."

"Huh," House said. "I must not have been listening."

Wilson frowned. His wash was done—Julie now led him to her cutting station. House gamely followed. He sat down next to them, picked up a book of hair styles, began idly flipping through the pages.

"So how was Buzz Aldrin, anyway?" he said, as though just making small talk.

"She told you about Ned too, huh?"

"I kind of guessed," House said.

"I can't lie, House, he's a great guy."

"And I'm sure he'd be the first to tell you that."

"No," Wilson said, as Julie began trimming the sides of his hair. "He's actually quite humble."

"C'mon," said House. "I bet you spent the whole dinner talking about his moon landing."

"It wasn't a moon landing. It was a space station. . .much farther into the galaxy. . .but no, we talked about oncology. He's very interested in what I do. And he wants to come visit the kids in the cancer wing. Bring them NASA t-shirts and toy rockets, that kind of thing."

"Oh," said House, adding hopefully: "Ugly?"

"I don't know. . .do you think Tom Selleck is ugly? Because they could be twins."

"Does he have a brother?" Julie asked, with a giggle.

House frowned.

"But he's dull as dishwater, right?"

"No, he's a fascinating guy. When he's not at NASA, he loves to race cars. And he's on the board of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I'm telling you, House. This guy's a prince. I have a little man crush on him myself."

"You would," House muttered.

He held up a picture in the hair book. It was a woman's haircut, with big, roller-curled waves and a hairsprayed poof in the back.

"I think this would be a good look for you," he said.

#####

A few days later, House wandered into Cuddy's office. There was an enormous bouquet of flowers on her desk that she was dreamily inhaling.

"From Captain Kirk?" he asked.

"Yeah. . ." she said, smiling.

"Well, he's presumably already slept with you, so he's not after that," House said. "So what did he do? Ogle another woman in your presence? Stand you up? Forget your birthday?"

"What are you talking about House?" Cuddy said. "He didn't do anything."

"C'mon Cuddy. Flowers were basically invented to get men out of the dog house," House said. "No guy gives a woman flowers just because."

Cuddy pulled a magnolia out of the bouquet, smelled it.

"Ned does."

House rolled his eyes.

"I haven't even met this guy and I hate him already," he grumbled under his breath.

"Funny you should say that," Cuddy said, snapping out of her reverie. "Ned's coming to visit the Pediatric Cancer Ward tomorrow and we're having lunch. I thought maybe it was time that you two alpha males met?"

The thought of seeing Cuddy with Captain America was somewhat repulsive.

"Is that really necessary, Cuddy?" he asked.

"It's important to me House," Cuddy said. "I know it sounds silly but I want you guys to like each other."

He sighed.

"Just point me in the right direction, boss," he said.

"1 o clock, my office. We can figure out where we're going from here."

"I'll bring the Tang."

######

House arrived early the next day, mostly for spying purposes—and instantly regretted his call.

Ned and Cuddy were standing next to Cuddy's desk, embracing. He was leaning down—he towered over her, and enveloped her, like a bear—whispering something in her ear and she was laughing. Although House was outside a closed door, he could almost hear it—that sultry, throaty, alluring Lisa Cuddy laugh.

He wanted to be the one who made her laugh like that.

Captain Ned kissed Cuddy's neck—and she looked up at him, like she was about to kiss him on the mouth.

That was House's cue. He burst in.

"I sure hope you're Ned," he said. "Otherwise, Dr. Cuddy's going to have some 'splainin to do."

They both looked up, laughed.

Ned, as advertised, was a strapping hunk of man, with thick wavy dark hair, broad shoulders, and an effortless way of filling a room. House had hoped for a cheesy, Magnum PI-style mustache, but no such luck. The guy was clean shaven. (In fact, he was, in many ways, the anti-House—he looked about as reputable as a person could look.)

Ned held out his hand.

"You must be House," he said.

House shook Ned's hand. Predictably, the guy had a crushing grip.

"Whatever you do, don't let any of our surgeons shake his hand, Cuddy," House said.

They decided to get lunch at a sandwich shop near the hospital—Cuddy wanted them all to drive together, but House made up some half-baked excuse about needing to run a quick errand after lunch: There was no chance he was sitting in the back seat of Ned's car, like a chump.

He followed them on his bike.

"Honda CBR?" Ned said, when House pulled into the parking lot. "Nice bike. I have one too. But I'm partial to my Ducati"—he was referencing the high-priced Italian bike manufacturer. "Basically, I like anything that's fast."

"No wonder you like Cuddy," House said.

She swatted him.

They went inside. Ned and Cuddy sat side by side and House sat across from them. He was feeling pretty emasculated in Ned's presence—rare for him. There weren't too many guys who were taller, more imposing, more confident than he was. He needed to regain the upper hand.

"Is it true you guys wear diapers in space?" he asked.

Ned chuckled.

"Why is everyone obsessed with the diaper thing?" he said. "Yes, it's true. But only for take-offs and landings."

"Pampers? Or Huggies?" House said, smiling at him.

"They're NASA issued, called MAGs," Ned said. "But we have an old joke at the agency: Will you shit yourself on your first space flight? Depends."

Cuddy laughed like this was the funniest joke she'd ever heard. House gulped at his water.

"Gross," he said.

Cuddy kicked him under the table.

"Soooo. . . when's your next mission, Captain?" House said. "They must keep you pretty busy there at NASA. Probably need to be away from home for long stretches at a time, huh?"

"I have nothing scheduled for the foreseeable future," Ned said, putting his arm around Cuddy, and grinning at her. "Which usually gets me pretty restless, but in this case, is a very positive development indeed."

"Huh," House said. "Lucky you."

"Ned, tell House about that time your crewmate lost his oxygen supply on the spacewalk," Cuddy said. House had a vague, uncomfortable feeling that she was showing Ned off.

Ned launched into a detailed story of his heroism—how, through quick thinking and with little regard for his own safety, he had rescued a fellow astronaut during a mission.

"Impressive stuff," House said. "Very manly."

"Of course, in space, no one can hear you scream," Ned chuckled.

And Cuddy laughed again and squeezed Ned's hand.

#####

After lunch, back in her office, Cuddy asked House what he thought of Ned.

"Seems like a great guy," House said. Sadly, it was the truth.

"Really?" she said. "You liked him?"

"If you weren't dating him, I would."

And Cuddy beamed at him.

A few minutes later, House passed by a trio of female nurses who were obviously still buzzing about the famous astronaut's visit.

"God, Dr. Cuddy is so lucky," one of them said. "Is he, like, the perfect man or what?"

"Did you see how sweet he was with the onco kids?"

"I know. . .I melted."

"And the way he looks at Dr. Cuddy. The man is smitten."

"And he's so handsome. He's like a movie star."

"But better. Because instead of playing an astronaut, he is one!"

"It's not such a big deal," House said, not able to resist butting in. "He's just a glorified pilot."

"A glorified pilot who was on the cover of a Wheaties Box!" one of the nurses countered.

"He was . . on a Wheaties Box?" House said meekly.

"Yeah," she said. "Don't you ever go to the grocery store?"

House shrugged.

"I prefer Corn Flakes," he said, and limped away.

#####

Three days later, House was getting ready to leave for the day when Cuddy strut into his office.

"Whatever pathetic version of plans you might have for tonight, cancel them," she said.

House already had his knapsack slung over his shoulder.

He put it down on the desk.

"What's up?" he said.

"I just got a call from accounting. They're doing an internal audit and—surprise, surprise—they're focusing on your department. They want all your budget reports for the last eight years."

"Cuddy, that could take weeks—even months!" House protested.

"But they want them by the end of next week," Cuddy said. "Which means you and me are going to be stuck here, working late nights, until it gets done."

"Noooo!" House said. "You can't possibly keep me prisoner here. This is a hospital, not a Gulag."

"Look House. This is your fault. If you'd ever so much as bothered to fill out a single expense report, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess."

"How many days are we going to have to work late?" he asked.

She put her hands on her hips.

"As long as it takes."

House looked down at his desk and tried to conceal a smile.