This is the result of another rejected prompt.

It's takes place during the Season 5 episode "Let Them Eat Cake" and replaces the unsavory part.

I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I am in no way connected with the man who thought the boob grab was a good direction.

All Bets Are Off

"How much did you bet?" House asked as he entered Wilson's office, unannounced and unconcerned as usual.

"I've admitted I'm powerless over my gambling addiction," Wilson dryly responded. "It's the first step in my recovery."

"You told me to ask Cuddy out," House said.

"Because you smashed her toilet," he calmly responded. "It would be less destructive to move the foreplay along. Save the porcelain!"

House smirked as Wilson clenched his fist and pumped it in the air like an activist.

"You don't care about that toilet. You told me to ask her out because there's something in it for you," House insisted as he slumped down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "There's a bet out there that I'll ask Cuddy out."

"How devious!" Wilson feigned horror.

"You're going to lose."

"I have nothing to lose," he said. "You're the one destroying property in lieu of passing a note in the classroom. If you'd just draw the little squares she could check in the box that she likes you instead of ordering another toilet."

"The pot must be huge," House responded. "How many people have joined?"

"You're paranoid."

"As soon as I bust Kutner for impersonating me on that website he will spill the beans anyway," House said. "You'd be better off to tell me now and ensure a win."

"I'll wait it out," Wilson smirked. "She'll panty-up. You will raise and the pot will grow."

"Your ability to create a striking pun diminishes a little more every day," House said. "How much did you bet?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

House grabbed half of Wilson's sandwich and headed out the door. "You're still struggling with submitting to a power greater than your own," he said. "I always win."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

"Everybody knows this is going somewhere," Cuddy said. "I think we're supposed to kiss now."

House swallowed hard. He wanted to kiss her. He'd wanted to kiss her for weeks, ever since they'd kissed after the adoption had fallen through. His nights had been full of dreams of kissing her again, his thoughts obsessed with the memory of her taste. He'd even come close to asking her on a date, but he'd chickened out before he'd even knocked on the door. It was too much to risk, losing her. Wilson had been right, if it didn't work with her, it wouldn't work with anyone. She was it. And he was scared.

"The pot must be huge for you to have joined in the game," he said.

"What?"

He'd hand it to her. She looked legitimately confused by his response. She was good.

"You'll have to work a little harder on the bluff, Cuddy," he said. "You're working with a short stack."

"What are you talking about?"

"I could kiss you now, and skip the date altogether," he explained. "That would make you not only easy, but a loser."

"You're an ass," she said, shaking her head in frustration. "I don't know why I should be surprised."

House watched as Cuddy left the room, puzzled by her reaction. Did she really not know about the bet? Did she really want him to kiss her? Or was she playing him?

"I'm going to change my appointment time so I can help with the case," Thirteen said as she entered the office.

House looked at her puzzled. She was participating in a clinical trial for a new medication to treat Huntington's. He'd interrupted her appointment earlier by having the team do the DDX in the lab where she was receiving the treatment.

"What's the bet?"

"I'll go help with the tests," she said, ignoring his question. "You're trying to rule out CNS lymphoma first, right?"

"Is it for how long it will take before I ask her out, or if I will ask her out at all?"

"So, you're going to ask Cuddy out?"

House groaned. "You bet too?"

"It could be astrocytoma, you know?"

"Who's the bank?" House asked.

Thirteen laughed. "Kutner."

"Son of a bitch," he said. "He's really playing the angles."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

"I'll put $1000 down against Cuddy," House said to Kutner.

"What?" Kutner stared at him with that ridiculous blank look that was almost his trademark. Look stupid and no one will expect you to use your smarts.

"Cut the crap," House said. "I know about the bet. I'm in for $1000."

Kutner's eyes grew wide. "If you're invested in the pot, the scales are unfairly tipped."

"Your point?"

"That's cheating."

"Life and gambling are often unfair," House responded, and handed him the cash. "How much did Wilson bet?"

"Two hundred," Kutner answered.

"You can tell him he's a chump," House said before turning to leave. "There's no way I'm asking Cuddy out. And you can tell her too! She played her hand and lost. "

"She bet you'd never ask her out," Kutner said to his retreating back.

House came to an abrupt halt.

"What?"

"Cuddy put down $200 that you'd never ask her out."

House frowned. She'd bet against him? She'd bet he'd never ask her out? What the hell? Not that he'd given her any reason to believe he would. Their relationship had been in chaos since they'd kissed. He didn't think either one of them knew what direction to turn, what they should do. The attraction was no secret. Their hands had been revealed the minute they'd touched. It didn't matter that he'd dealt again, and tried to change the game the very next day.

But if Cuddy believed he'd never ask her out, she had really wanted him to kiss her this afternoon. It hadn't been about the bet at all. Or…

"It's a Pushka," House muttered.

Kutner was still staring at him, dazed and confused.

Cuddy and Wilson must have made an arrangement that they'd bet in opposite directions, and whichever way it turned, they'd split the winnings. Neither would lose the $200 investment. They were playing him. Wilson sucked at the bluff, but Cuddy was a master. She could stack the deck in her favor in every circumstance. The trick wasn't in discovering her hand, but identifying the game.

This wasn't just about a bet. It was about pride. She'd played it cool, pretending the kiss meant nothing to her, showing concern for him and acting grateful for his reactions. It was a game. She'd been stung when he didn't want to talk to her the next day, and that wound had been festering for weeks, with every rejection. Now, she was salvaging her pride. She'd bet that he would never ask her out, and if he didn't, she'd not only win the bet, but give credence to the belief that her mask of unconcern was not just pretense. But if he did ask her out, it would stroke her pride, a bigger win to her than just money. This was a win-win for her…or so she thought.

"You still want to bet against her?" Kutner asked as House turned again to head for the elevator.

"Absolutely," he tossed over his shoulder. This game was about to take a turn that she wouldn't see coming.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

You gave something away to make a relationship work. You rationalize that you're getting something back. That's what he'd told Taub. That's how House had explained the reasoning behind Taub giving up philandering. It was how he was explaining Cuddy's plan. She would take a loss of some kind, but either loss would result in a win. It was a bold move. It was this type of circuitous planning that made the woman so damn intriguing. She was so much more than a beautiful, successful woman. She was devious and complex. She was a worthy opponent, and he imagined she'd be his ideal partner.

Ideal partner. As if that was even possible! It was a dream, of course. It was no different than the fantasies he had of her in the shower. Well, except for the result. There was no way Cuddy would ever see him as a viable partner. A fling, maybe. But never a partner. Not unless he could turn the tables on her, change her perception, surprise her with a vision of unseen possibilities. He hoped he'd played his cards right.

House sighed and leaned back in his Eames chair hoping for a quick nap. The team was running more tests on the patient, and Dee Dee was well into character, scaring the crap out of Kutner and Taub. It wouldn't be long until House could play his hand and bust them for that website they'd put up using his name. Now, if he could only believe that Cuddy…

"Hi."

His eyes opened wide to look at her standing over him. He suddenly felt very nervous.

She moved to sit down on the ottoman, and he moved his feet to the floor. The action caused his knees to brush hers, and he sat up straighter, slowly moving his legs so they almost surrounded hers.

"Your hooker is singing in the ER," she said.

"It's all part of a master plan."

"I figured as much," she grinned at him. "I can only allow her to take up space for so long. When we need the room, I'll have to kick her out."

"She'll be in the morgue by then," House shrugged off her words.

"I'm not going to ask," she said.

"Just teaching a valuable lesson," he explained.

She shook her head. "Whatever happened to the days of lectures and on the job training?"

"Boring," he said, as if that explained everything. And it did.

Cuddy smiled at him. He was taken with the shyness of it. It was a rare sight.

"You upped the ante."

House knew she was referring to the desk. He'd pulled her desk from med school out of storage, had it restored and installed in her new office. She would have discovered it by now. He'd had it swapped with the one she'd ordered while she was at one of her donor lunches.

"Straddle bet," he explained, nonchalantly. "You didn't see that coming."'

"Most people consider that a poor long-term strategy," she said.

"Only in poker would straddling be considered a bad move."

"We're not playing poker."

House stared at her. "No, we're not."

"What are we playing?" She asked.

Interesting. So she wasn't playing him. House felt pleased that she was as confused as him. But if that was the case, what game were they playing? He'd lost track. If he'd ever known!

"Raise me and find out," he said with more bravado than he was feeling.

"Are we still talking straddling?"

House grinned lecherously.

"Always up for that." He waggled his brows.

Her laugh was infectious. She loved his easy puns, his smart humor.

They quietly stared at each other, suddenly at a loss for words yet feeling awkward in the silence. They seemed to be searching for answers in each other's faces, but there were too many unidentified questions. How could they possibly even gather clues when the questions weren't even clear?

"Would you have dinner with me, House?"

House was stunned.

"What?"

"Would you go on a date with me?"

If she asked him out, no one won the bet. In fact, she wouldn't even win the proposition bet, since pride would be off the table. She wasn't forfeiting; the stakes were too high. This was an unfathomable play. Or was it a play at all? Wait…

"All bets are off?"

Her easy smile was confirmation.

"Are you up for it?" She asked.

House felt the flush creeping up his neck. He was glad she couldn't see how up for it he was! Only Lisa Cuddy could turn him into a horny teenager with just one sentence.

"I'll pick you up at seven."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

They had dinner at a small Italian place in the art district.

Cuddy had forgotten how charming and engaging House could be. For so many years they'd been playing at tug of war, her position as his boss demanding she rein him in even as he pushed every limit in his vying for position. Their relationship had been about power and antagonism, to the point of using their intense physical attraction and easy repartee as pawns…or bargaining chips, depending on the game of the day. But tonight they weren't hiding behind roles and pretense. Tonight they were House and Cuddy, a man and woman, immensely compatible and intensely attracted.

"You going to eat that last bite?" House asked, eyeing the small bit of tiramisu on her plate.

"You should have ordered your own," she said, scooping up the final bite in the spoon and reaching across the table to feed him.

It seemed to be an unconscious move on her part, but the intimacy of it left House with a sudden tightening in his balls. Not really a surprise. He'd been fully distracted by the ongoing sensations in his pants all evening. She had no idea what she did to him. That sparkle in her eyes, her smile, her laugh. The way her hand caressed the stem of her wine glass. Every move she made was a sucker punch. And every time she leaned over and he caught a glimpse of her cleavage, he felt like a kid looking at a Playboy magazine for the first time. It was pathetic! It felt good.

Cuddy couldn't take her eyes off him. It was hard enough not to drown in those blue eyes, but the way his lips closed over the spoon and his tongue licked the cream from the edge of his mouth left her breathless. She wanted him. Bad.

"There's some kind of performance art exhibit going on down the street," House said. "We could check it out, if you want."

He didn't want the evening to end.

"I'd love to," she answered and cringed inwardly. She'd answered too quickly. But she just didn't want the evening to end.

House caught the attention of the waiter and gestured for the check. Within a few minutes, they were headed next door.

"Do you know the artist?" Cuddy asked, slipping her arm through his so naturally it seemed they'd been doing it for years.

"I have no idea," he said. "I just heard the people at the table behind us mention it."

"You were eavesdropping?" She pretended to be shocked.

"Do you know me?"

Cuddy laughed.

"Let's see if they had better taste in art than in conversation," he said as he opened the gallery door for her.

It turned out it was an erotic art show. A series of burlesque-type vignettes, the performances were a blend of circus, cabaret, dance, madness and mayhem. It was a high energy, sensual romp. It was a sexual stimuli House didn't need. He'd already been working off a heightened awareness of everything Lisa Cuddy. He didn't need the visual Viagra of a "flirtatious bacchanal".

Cuddy, however, seemed to be highly amused. She'd spent entirely too much time analyzing positions and discussing the various shapes of breasts. She'd even approached one of the artists to inquire about the props being used to simulate sex toys. The enthusiasm she brought to what should have been a rather embarrassing first date was awe inspiring. As House watched her giggle and blush and investigate every aspect of the exhibit, he suddenly felt happy. Not less miserable, but happy. And with that realization came an understanding that almost knocked him out for the count. He was in love with Cuddy.

House was quiet as they left the gallery.

Cuddy took his arm again and nudged his side. "There's no way she could really fit that in," she said. "It's anatomically impossible. It must be a magician's trick."

House chuckled. "You can't stop analyzing it."

"It's fascinating."

"You're sick, Cuddy."

They had stopped at the car when she turned and curtsied.

"Thank you, Dr. Kettle," she said, and then rolled her eyes. "As if you're not taking notes on the degrees of perversion!"

House pulled her to him, his eyes devouring her with an intensity that sent a surge of arousal straight through her. His body curved over her, his height adapting to her smaller frame as he pressed her against the car. There was no room to breathe, no room for thought. His hands moved along the curve of her hip and she felt her skin begin to flame beneath the fabric of her skirt.

When his lips met hers, they were soft and firm, and such a gentle pressure she found herself sighing beneath their pressure. His tongue took advantage of the opening and dipped inside, tasting her with long, leisurely licks. Cuddy immediately responded.

Her hands were in his hair, pulling him to her, directing his mouth to an angle beneficial for her return onslaught. He growled when her tongue began its own exploration, deepening the kiss and drawing him into a web of want and desire.

Cuddy could feel his raging heartbeat against her breasts, and the slight flexing of his fingers at her hips. She was achingly aware of his every move, and felt a surge of excitement at his response.

When he pulled away, she caught his eyes searching hers, so full of want and caution.

"Damn," she whispered. "I really thought you'd do this when you took me home."

She watched his Adam's apple move as he swallowed.

"Why?" He asked.

"It would be so much easier to lose the clothes."

His eyes went wide and he quickly moved her aside so he could open the door for her. "We'll be there in 10 minutes."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

House was levered over her, his left arm supporting his torso as his right hand gripped the back of her knee, pulling it around him so he could nestle fully between her legs. They'd barely made it through the door before they'd been kissing, and touching, and tearing at each other's clothes. She didn't know how they'd even made it down the hall to her bedroom. But now as she felt his naked erection against her, Cuddy felt the need to slow it down. She wanted to savor it, to enjoy every touch, every taste.

His eyes were closed when he slid against her folds, but now they were open, looking into hers with a tenderness unlike anything she'd ever seen from him. He gazed at her lips and down her neck, then lingered on her breasts. She could feel his breath escape his chest when he looked lower and caught a glimpse of how he fit against her.

"God, Cuddy." His voice was reverent. His touch adored as he gently slid his hand up and down her thigh.

Her hands reached up to cup his jaw, and pull him down to her. He seemed to melt at the feel of her tongue stroking his, slow and sweet. Cuddy pushed her hips up into him, searching for more, needing more.

His lips ran along her jaw toward her ear. "Do you know how often I've dreamed of this," he whispered.

There was a time Cuddy would have preened with a sense of victory, feeling arrogant that she'd brought out such an admission from this man. But now, in his arms, feeling the heat and the strength and the vulnerability of him against her, it sent a shiver down her spine.

"If it's half as much as I've dreamed of you, we're long overdue," she said.

"I want to taste every inch of you," he said, as he captured a nipple between his lips.

Cuddy cried out at the heat and the sip of his tongue, and her core began to pulsate with every suck and tug. Her hands became greedy, running along his back to his rear, kneading his flesh and pulling him into her. He moved to the other breast, giving it equal attention, and she bit back a groan. Was he really going to make her come by just focusing on her breasts?

"I love your body," he growled, as his mouth moved along her stomach.

Cuddy smiled. "You haven't tasted anything yet," she teased, just before he buried his face in her cleft.

His tongue ran along the silk flesh between her legs and she writhed beneath him. His grip on her tightened to keep her still as his tongue pushed into her, licking and parting the sensitive tissue. Her clit was swollen and pulsating, and House sucked and licked at it in unending, torturous pleasure. When her limbs began to tense and shake, he thrust his tongue deep inside her sex as she convulsed, lapping up her juices and humming in contentment. He didn't stop. He was merciless with his attention, moving back to her clit as he pushed a finger inside her.

Cuddy felt the throbbing in her clit increase and her internal muscles tighten. She thrashed against him when he blew along her wet flesh. His finger twisted and pounded with a rhythm that matched her undulations and she felt the hot roll of delight wash over her in crashing waves.

Before she could fully focus again, he was stretched out on her, pinning her beneath him as he pushed into her. His eyes were a darker blue and dilated as he looked down at her. He was trying to contain himself, but he was reaching the limits of his control. She didn't want his control. She wanted him wild and possessed. She wanted to be possessed by him.

She wrapped her legs around him, scissoring him between her thighs.

"You're mine, House," she said.

He snapped. He rammed into her with a fierceness she hadn't expected, but was happy to receive. She clenched around him, pulling him in deeper. He was big, and hard, and as he began to pound into her at a frantic pace, she gripped him tighter. She could feel his balls slapping against her, hear the suctioning sounds of their connection, smell the scent of his musky passion surround her. Pleasure ripped through her as he kept up an Olympic pace. She couldn't take any more.

"You feel so good," he managed to gasp, just before he threw his head back, shuddering as they shared an explosive orgasm.

[H] [H] [H] [H][H]

They walked into the hospital holding hands. After the night they'd shared, the physical, emotional and mental connection that felt more spiritual than anything else, there was no need to pretend. Everything had changed. They were officially a couple.

"We'll tell them you asked me out," Cuddy said to him just before they approached the front desk.

House smiled. She was already becoming his partner in crime.

"What about your $200?" He asked. "You'll lose it."

"Small change," she said. "I put down $1000 that you'd score."

House came to an abrupt halt. There was a bet they'd have sex?

Cuddy winked at him as she sashayed into her office.

House grinned.

She was never boring.