I've had this in my head for so long, and it took some badgering from Rosanna to get it out of me! I dont know, I offer a fic of any fandom and any ship, and she chooses this...lmao

This is my first House dialogue piece, so I'm very scared lol Hope y'all like!

Dsclmr: I dont even own the House DVDs thanks to living in stupid England, so there's no way I own any rights to this fic...But, PTB, feel free to steal it ;)

For Rosanna, as always :D x


"House!" The glass door swung open, an urgency in Dr. Cuddy's voice.

"Foreman did it" he replied simply, not flinching at her sudden arrival. His eyes were still cast to his Gameboy, his feet up on the desk.

"Do what?" she really wasn't in the mood for games, and his non-committal shrug was just the icing on the cake. She knew this was a bad idea.

She rolled her eyes, "I need your Vicodin"

"And I need you to do another button up, you're scaring the kids" he flicked his eyes momentarily to her pale pink shirt, adding the image to his mental gallery. "Well, Wilson at least"

"I need…your Vicodin" she stated again. She'd learnt early on in the career of Gregory House to blend all of his dialogue together into one big din, and just pick out words she recognised or needed to hear. But why, today of all days, did that din have to be a hundred decibels louder and with an added marching band!

She'd spent all morning trying to convince Mr. Lewis that he did not, contrary to Google-belief, have an infected toenail, and that is was in fact the remnants of nail polish from the drunken night he'd dressed up as Velma Kelly for a Fancy Dress Party…

Add to that the three lawsuits that had already passed her desk courtesy of House; the two screaming kids from Examine Room 1, who had handcuffed themselves to each other with their daddy's cuffs, and shoved the key up the youngest one's nose; and, the piece de resistance, the Hospital pharmacy was out of Vicodin. How does a pharmacy run out of painkillers? Accepting defeat, and temptingly the resignation from the pharmacist, Cuddy came to the next best thing: Dr. House. "I know you have spares"

"Is this, pray tell, for personal use?" this could get interesting, House decided

"Just one pill"

He shrugged and sucked air through his teeth, "Fresh out"

Cuddy closed her eyes and took a breath, "You're never 'fresh out', you're a walking drug store. Well, limping drugstore"

"You really know how to make a man feel special" he snarked, fake tears in his voice. He paused his game and limped the couple of steps to the desk behind him to 'look busy'.

His back was turned, he didn't notice Cuddy approaching, or her stopping so close she could smell the faint splash Old Spice.

He spun around but slammed into the counter with a crash and a yelp, seeing Cuddy in such close proximity. "What's your damage?" borrowing yet another line from those damn teen dramas

"Showing a man how to feel special" she snaked her hands between his arms, grabbing the counter behind him. "I seem to remember that men used to fantasise about this" her voice had gone softer, more sexy, "A little afternoon delight, of sorts"

A million retorts were on the tip of House's tongue, but they all disappeared the second her right hand moved across the material of his jeans.

"I seem to remember it worked before. Remember that night? You…me…that late, late night all those years ago" her hand worked its way slowly into his pocket. "Do men still fantasise about things like that?" her fingers circled over its destination. House pulled back slightly, a gasp escaping his lips.

Cuddy was enjoying this. Maybe a little too much? She still had the mischievous glint in her eyes, as she extracted her hand, their bodies still touching.

There was a distinct popping sound, then a rattle as she emptied a pill into her palm. "Don't take it personal" she called back from the door, practically giggling, to a dumbstruck and surprisingly dry-mouthed House.

"I feel so used!" he managed to shout back, clearing his throat and resuming normal duty.