Chapter Two

He woke up at three, brought to consciousness not by his old nemesis, pain, 
but by an odd sound and sensation. House blearily opened one eye, aware of 
a squeaky thrumming sound and some wetness on the end of his nose. He 
tried to focus and became aware of the gray blob of Lucy Addis lying up close 
to his left cheek.

She was nursing on the end of his nose. House felt her little mouth sucking 
wetly there, her eyes closed in bliss, and the total absurdity of his situation 
had him fighting not to snort out loud. Lucy’s paws kneaded along his stubbly 
cheek, the tiniest hint of claw scratching with no more effect than the toes of a 
wasp.

House reached over and disengaged her; she gave a sleepy squeak of protest 
until he carefully licked his pinky and rubbed it against her mouth. Lucy 
nuzzled it a moment, then began to nurse on that instead, raspy tongue 
scraping the pad. He let her suckle for a while, watching her boneless little 
body drift back to sleep.

“Stop it,” he whispered grumpily. “I forbid you to be cute. If word of this gets 
out my entire reputation as a man who kicks kids and dogs will be ruined.”

Lucy heard him not, blissfully lost in slumber. House gave a sigh, wondering 
how long she would nurse on his pinky. It tickled. To distract himself he tried 
to imagine Cuddy doing the same and a sudden surge of lust immediately hit 
his stomach, rolling downwards.

Ohhhh yeah.

House decided Cuddy could suck on anything of his she wanted, and while his 
pinky was a good start, there were definitely better parts to finish with. The 
fantasy was a good one, but he was too sleepy to follow through on it, and a 
little while later, House drifted back to sleep himself, finger still in the kitten’s 
mouth.


Breakfast with Lucy was . . . interesting. While House shoveled down his 
Sugar Pops, the kitten was more interested in the milk, and sat on the other 
side, lapping steadily at it. House waved his spoon at her.

“You’ll get the runs,” came his annoyed warning. “Scooting off to your sandbox 
every twenty minutes or so once the lactose and sucrose hit, baby.”

Lucy looked up at the waving spoon, momentarily distracted. House took the opportunity to pick up the saucepan away from her and finish up the last of his soggy cereal. She eyed the pot as she paced on the kitchen table, little tail 
perking a bit. House shook his head. “Forget it. So, while I’m out would you do 
the dishes, the laundry, change the sheets and take out the garbage?”

Lucy leaped off the table, making a thump as she landed on the floor, 
sauntering away towards the living room. House watched her go. “I take it 
that’s a no?” he yelled after her.

House set out a dish of water next to the food bowl, checked to make sure all 
the windows were locked, and closed the door to his bedroom before heading 
out.

The morning was mundane, with only one patient on the caseload, and House 
let Foreman take the credit for the diagnosis, even though he himself had 
suspected the tumor from the first three listed symptoms. After dismissing 
everyone to carry out the necessary tests, House debated going home and 
seeing what disasters would await him. It was while he was in the middle of his ruminations that Cuddy stopped by his office.

She paused at the doorway, looking in at him and the feminine grace of her 
move was so much like Lucy’s that House blinked a little. Cuddy strode in, her 
voice grimly amused. “Your clinic hours have been rescheduled,” she 
announced, and crossed her arms.

He gave an exaggerated look of innocence. “Have they?”

“Yes. Brenda tells me she watched them disappear right before her very eyes 
while she was getting ready to post the rotation this morning,” Cuddy snarled, leaning down over House’s desk and planting her palms on it, her expression 
fierce. House fought a grin.

Perfect. If only he could keep her there---

“And since timetables aren’t supposed to go ‘poof!’ I naturally thought of you.”

“Oh you can’t blame ME—computers screw up all the time,” he countered in 
an absent voice. The view was perfect; sweet creamy cleavage squeezed up 
along her V neck top, the tiniest hint of black scalloping along the edge of the shoulder. Interesting—Cuddy wore black lace bras—House filed that fact 
away for later erotic review.

“House, yours was the only set of clinic hours altered! It doesn’t take 
Encyclopedia Brown to figure out who hacked into the schedule!” Cuddy 
growled. He leaned back a little.

“Encyclopedia Brown? No comparison to Holmes or Poirot? I get judged 
against a ten year old suburban homeboy?”

“Consider the pettiness of the crime—“ Cuddy replied. She finally noticed his 
gaze and glanced down. “Oh for God’s sake!” Swiftly she straightened up 
again, crossing her arms defensively. House’s grin widened; her move only enhanced the view. Cuddy was flushed now, aware that she’d lost the battle 
before it had even begun. Her nostrils flared.

“I bet Encyclopedia Brown never looked at Sally Kimball this way—“ House 
drawled, arching an eyebrow suggestively.

Cuddy gave a sigh of exasperation. “She’d have pounded him flat then gone 
home to read through her latest issue of On Our Backs. House, you have 
clinic duty this afternoon. Should you miss it, the correlating percentage of 
your paycheck will be docked for the next three months.”

That was new. And unpleasant. House gave a shudder.

“Jawohl, mein Führette! Cud-dy, Cud-dy über alles---“ he sang softly. She 
spun and stormed out; House watched the sassy swing of her ass and sighed happily at the sight of it. Annoyed Cuddy had the best saunter. Slightly 
sloshed Cuddy was cute too, because that sexy sway came with throaty 
giggles as well, but it had been a long time since he’d see SSC and never at 
the office.

With a sigh, House turned back to his laptop and prepared to stick his hours 
back in.

With trepidation, House opened his door and reached up to flick on the light. 
He liked the anticipation of the moment; not knowing if disaster or order lay 
behind the door. Carefully he looked in.

Newspaper lay strewn off the end of the sofa. The high intensity lamp near his recliner was toppled. House sighed. Moderate and fixable. He stepped in.

“Cat?” he called, carefully closing the door behind him, and eyeing the room. 
He’d promised himself he would NOT call out ‘Lucy, I’m home.’ She wasn’t anywhere in view, so he lurched towards the kitchen, looking over the shelves. 
A single broken mug glittered up at him from the floor; House nudged it with 
his sneaker, only slightly miffed. A quick trip out to Hooters and he’d get a replacement.

House heard a strange chord. Turning, he took a few steps and looked 
towards his piano out in the living room. He couldn’t see the keyboard, but he 
heard the odd tinkle and knew precisely where Lucy was. Carefully he limped 
out towards her.

“Your name is Addis, not atonal—“ he grumbled. The kitten looked up at him 
from the keyboard, and permitted him to pet her, arching into his big palm as 
he sat down to the instrument. House lightly tapped a few keys as he looked 
at her. “In the mood for something prophetic maybe?”

Gently he played out the introduction, letting his hands move over the keys 
with ease as the slightly mournful melody of ‘Someone To Watch Over Me’ 
rose out of the piano. Lucy wandered away, finding a balled up post-it note 
more interesting. House kept playing, adding richer chord combinations to the melody, and humming it under his breath. It was a melancholy tune at best, 
but he enjoyed the despondent theme more than he wanted to admit.

And then there was the thought of Cuddy singing it. She had the sort of voice 
that could make this particular song a real come-on. House lingered on that imagery, and as the music came to an end, he sighed, knowing his decision 
had been reached.

House picked up his cell phone and dialed. It rang, was answered and he 
cleared his throat before speaking.

“I need you to come over and help me get rid of a body,” he announced.

Some squawking came over the line; House winced a little, holding the phone 
away from his ear for a few seconds. “Well if it was a prank call I would have disguised my voice, like last time. No, I mean it. I have a small body here and 
I need your help in getting rid of it.” There was another series of growls; 
House broke in impatiently. “Because you’re my boss, and the one who 
handles bad PR involving your doctors and the scandals that happen with 
them. Get over here.”

He hung up, and turned the phone off, then rose off the piano bench, smirking 
a little at the thought of Cuddy at home, pacing back and forth, trying to 
decide if he was serious or not. Lucy came skittering around the corner of the 
sofa and nearly ran into his cane. He poked it at her and she batted the end 
of it.

“Your days are numbered, fuzzy butt. The man with the cane wins again,” 
House told her as he made his way to the sofa and sat down.

Halfway through watching SpongeBob Squarepants, House heard his doorbell 
ring. He clicked the remote and muted the show, then yelled, “Come in!”

“Okay House, I don’t know what weird little game you’re playing, but given 
your track record I don’t want to take a ch---ooooh God, what a cutie!”

House sighed, filing THAT comment away alongside the black lace bra factoid. 
He turned to peer over the back of the couch, just in time to see Cuddy pick 
up Lucy Addis and pat the kitten gently. Instantly a little purr filled the air and 
House rolled his eyes.

“Great—I feed you, give you shelter from the rain, a nice big sandbox and do 
you purr for me? No. Ungrateful brat.”

Cuddy gave a knowing laugh. “There’s a concept I’m sure you know well. So—
this is the body in question?” She held Lucy out a bit and examined her. The 
kitten blinked and allowed herself to be held up. Cuddy smiled, walking slowly around to the front of the sofa. House looked up the long length of her and 
fought to keep his expression neutral.

“That’s the one. Want her?”

“No.”

House sighed. Cuddy continued. “But, I have two nieces who would adore her. You’re serious about giving her away?”

“Yes.” His forced his voice to stay light. It came out almost glibly, but Cuddy 
cocked her head. Very gently she set the kitten down on the sofa cushion 
beside House, and the little cat climbed into his lap. Cuddy watched, her 
expression soft. House twisted his face into a scowl. “Oh come on, Cuddy—
do I LOOK like someone who needs a kitten? I have to be able to come and 
go as I want, without worrying about refilling bowls or changing litterboxes.”

“Or playing with string, or petting?” she countered, lightly dropping herself 
onto the edge of the sofa. House shot her a smutty look.

“Oh I could get into petting, but I like my pussy a little more experienced.”

“THAT’S the leer I knew was coming,” Cuddy countered serenely, shifting to 
face him. “But I notice you ARE petting her—“

House pulled his hand away guiltily and Cuddy took a breath, leaning back on 
the sofa. She sighed. “—Give up, Greg. You’re a sucker for anything small 
and determined. Patients. Rats. Kittens. Inside that black hairy heart of yours 
is a weak spot, an emotional aneurysm for the underdogs of this world. It’s something I’ve always liked about you.”

House pondered Cuddy’s words even as he luxuriated in the closeness of her 
on the sofa. Part of him was irritated at her insight, and another was 
fascinated by the slide of her short skirt up her thighs. He managed a half-
smile.

“There is a price for Lucy—“ he muttered. Cuddy arched an eyebrow at him. 
An elegant eyebrow, House noted.

“Lucy? You named her, too?”

“Lucy Addis,” House rolled out. “And if your nieces take her, they have to 
keep the name.”

“Is that the price?”

“No. That’s a rider. The price is . . . “ he hesitated, feeling a rare pang of 
indecision. Making sexist and suggestive remarks at work was one thing, but 
a pass here, after hours and at home---

“Greg? The price?” Cuddy prompted, leaning closer. House locked gazes with 
her.

“Some petting.”

Cuddy blinked. She stared at him for a long tense moment, and House held 
her gaze, feeling foolish and reckless and achingly horny all in the same compressed minute.

“Why am I aware that for once you’re not kidding?” she finally croaked. House sighed harshly, and leaned forward a tiny bit. Cuddy did the same, both of 
their faces only inches apart now.

“Because for all the crap we dish about and to each other, there has always 
been something here between us, Lisa. You know it. I know it.”

“Yes. But—“ That was as far as Cuddy got; House leaned in and very gently 
kissed her, brushing his mouth against hers as if to erase her doubtful words. 
Cuddy moaned sweetly, a sound that sent a hot charge knifing through his lap.

House held back. He wanted to press his advantage, but intuition held him 
back, and he waited, torn and hungry. After a second, Cuddy pushed forward, 
her lips lingering on his, and he felt the velvet tip of her tongue sliding along 
the seam of his mouth.

He groaned pleasurably, and tipped his head slightly, the better to kiss her, to welcome in her questing tongue. Cuddy mirrored his action and teased him, 
tasting like lipstick and mints and herself, warm and oh so sexy—

House let her kiss him, lost himself in the slow sensuality of Cuddy’s 
seductive tongue. She teased and toyed, kissing with a playful flair that was 
heating him up quickly. He turned to face her, and in doing so, accidentally 
disturbed Lucy, who had been curled up in his lap. She gave an indignant 
squeak, and the sound of her tiny outrage broke the spell. Cuddy pulled away 
from the kiss and laughed softly, reaching a hand to Lucy.

“Don’t squeeze the kitty, House,” she teased, her cheeks still red, her eyes 
bright.

“Forget the kitten, focus on the big tomcat here—“

Cuddy planted her free hand on his chest. “Whoa, big fellah. You got your 
positive strokes. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I was doing anything 
more than paying your price.”

House shot her a knowing look, his glance sharp, his dimples deep. Very 
slowly he licked his lips, still tasting her on them, and seeing that, Cuddy 
gave a little shiver.

“House--“

“Oh call me Greg, what with your tongue practically moving into my mouth and 
all. Come on Lisa, that’s not petting. That’s kissing, and while it’s a fantastic 
start, it’s by no means the end.”

Cuddy attempted to laugh him off. “It’s as much petting as you’re going to get.”

“But not nearly as much as you want to give me—“ he pointed out to her in a 
flare of insight so keen it almost hurt. Cuddy lifted her chin and looked away. 
Lucy hopped off the sofa and wandered away. Neither of them spoke for a 
moment, then House sighed. “Lisa?”

“Call it a lapse in common sense,” she told him softly. “You’re stubborn and 
brilliant and sexy, Greg. You’re a lot of dangerous things for a woman like me, 
and I’ve known that from the day I met you. But I put aside all that and hired 
you because you were what the hospital needed, and every patient you’ve 
ever saved rejustifies that choice. So I’m not about to fuck that up by letting 
you put your hands under my bra.”

He sighed. “Sorry then. No kitten. I’ll just drop her off at the pound and let 
them gas her in a week.”

Cuddy’s eyes blazed; she glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He shrugged, keeping his expression bland. “Hey, you broke our agreement, 
and tried to reconcile it with some noble speech about our positions at the 
hospital while at the same time you were clearly scoping out my package. 
Mixed signals; I get confused easily.”

“Oh so it now a matter of letting you grope me to save a kitten’s life—is that 
it?” Cuddy demanded. House noted she was having trouble keeping a straight 
face. He kept his gaze level. Cuddy gritted her teeth. She climbed onto the 
sofa forcing him to shift back, and loomed over House, her hands planted on 
either side of his shoulders. Her long hair dangled over her shoulders. “So 
you’re not above using blackmail to get you way on this?”

“You’re scaring me. But in a really good way—“ House told her, sliding his 
hands around her slender waist and pulling her on top of him.

Cuddy growled. “Shut up and let me save Lucy’s life—“

House said nothing, and simply buried his nose in her cleavage.

A week later, House plucked an envelope out of his mailbox, not recognizing 
the handwriting. He opened it, and pulled out a card with smiley faces on the 
front. When he opened it, out fell a Polaroid of two little girls, beaming at the camera. One was holding Lucy Addis, who was squirming to get away.

House carried the card into the bedroom and climbed into bed, nudging the 
sleeping figure already there. He curled around her and purred softly in her 
ear. “Hey.”

“Hmmm?”

“It seems your noble sacrifice worked.” He handed her the card. She rolled 
over and took it, glancing at the photo with a little grin.

“Ummmm.” Carefully Cuddy molded herself against House and pressed her 
lips to his chest. “Selflessly saving lives . . . all part of being a doctor.”

“Or playing doctor,” he sighed happily, stroking her bare bottom.

“Does this mean you have to go find another kitten?”

“Nah, I like the pussy I’ve got right here,” he told her, and proceeded to prove 
his point several times before morning.

END