DISCLAIMER: I do not own House. It belongs to the wonderful David Shore, who has brought me hours and hours of entertainment. Gregory House unfortunately also does not belong to me, though I severly wish he did.

AN: This is my first House fic, so please be gentle. I know the characters seem a bit OOC, but I believe that if left to their own devices, things would unfold somewhat in this way. Reviews would be immensely appreciated. Thanks, and enjoy! :)

James Wilson's phone rang for the fourth time that morning. He was still in bed, and figured that it was House, so he continued to ignore it. After the fifth time he finally picked up. "What?" he asked sharply.

"Wilson?" asked a raspy voice that thankfully did not belong to House.

"Cuddy? Is that you? You sound terrible!"

"I know I do," she said groggily. "Listen, Wilson, I need you to cover for me today. I know you've got your own patients, but I just can't come in. I feel like a piece of shit."

"Of, of course!" he stuttered. "Anything you need Cuddy! Really, it's no problem." She sighed in relief.

"Thank you Wilson, I don't think you know how much this means..."


Gregory House limped into the Dean of Medicine's office. He was pissed off, in pain, and didn't have a case. As he opened the second door into the office he yelled, "Cuddy!"

"House, what do you wa-"

"You're not Cuddy," House said, shocked.

"Now that we have a firm grasp of the obvious, what do you want?"

"My TV is broken," he snarled.

"Excellent," said Wilson, clasping his hands together.

"Excellent! How is that excellent?" he spat. "A new episode of Prescription Passion is on today! And, wait, why are you here? Where the hell is Cuddy? She's always getting on my back about not doing my job and now she's not doing hers."

"House, she's sick," Wilson tried to explain.

"I'm sick."

Wilson sighed. "Cuddy is physically sick, unlike you. Now, since you don't have anything to do today, you're going to go take care of Cuddy."

"But-" House protested.

"No buts House!"

House popped a couple of pills, "Wilson!" he whined.

"Go House, now, or else I'll tell them to just leave your television broke!"


House pulled up in front of Cuddy's house. Great, he thought, this will be fun. He slowly made his way up to her front door and knocked. "Come on in," yelled as nasally voice. House limped in, looking for Cuddy.

"What are you doing here?" she said, startled, when House reached her bedroom.

"Wilson sent me." He rested his cane against the wall and plopped onto the end of her bed. "I'm supposed to 'take care of you'," he said, adding finger quotes.

"Well you can tell Wilson that I don't need taking care of, especially by you." She rolled over, facing away from House. "Now go back to work, please."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," House said as he rubbed his leg. "My TV is broken, and Wilson told me explicitly that unless I wanted it to remain in its current condition, I had to come here." Cuddy sighed and sat up slowly. "Here, let me help you." House got up off of the bed and held his hand out, gently helping Cuddy stand up.

"Did Wilson replace all your Ibuprofen with some nice pills or something?" she coughed. House only stared, his hand still in hers. Finally he realized what was going on and quickly removed his hand, jamming it into his coat pocket.


"You must really want your TV fixed," she smiled as she pulled on a burgundy plaid bathrobe.

"Uh... Yeah. Prescription Passion is on today. Really don't want to miss it."

Cuddy slowly made her way into the living room and called, "I guess I could let you watch it here. Though you would actually have to do things to help me." House was still standing in the bedroom, awestruck at what he was hearing, seeing, and doing. He had to come up with a snarky comeback, and quick.

"Depends on what kind of things," he said as he limped out towards Cuddy. "I'm not here to fulfill some sick sexual doctor-and-his-boss fantasy of yours!" When he came out she was already plopped onto the couch, palm in her face.

"House! Could you just get me some coffee please? And go ahead and help yourself to some too." He walked over to the coffee pot and after searching through a couple of cabinets to find some mugs, he poured them each a cup. Limping over, he handed Cuddy hers and sat himself down on the other side of the couch.

"5:30? Really?"

"What?" she asked groggily. House turned himself around, facing her.

"Your coffee pot was set to start at 5:30. Which means you get up then, and probably don't even get to pour it into your cup until 6:00. You work a nine to five job, why do you feel the need to be up so early?"

Cuddy sat her mug down, and sunk further into the couch. "Do we really have to get into this?"

"Yes, I believe we do."

"House..." She sat up and looked him right in his magnificent electric blue eyes. No, no, they aren't magnificent, she thought. They're just blue. I shouldn't be thinking these things. "I'm a woman if you hadn't already noticed, and it takes me a while to get ready. You're wrong by the way."

He set his cup down with some force onto the table. "Me? Wrong? You must have the wrong Dr. House. Haven't I proved to you time and time again that I'm always right?" Cuddy tried to hide her laughter.

"I get up at 5:00 for your information, and then go jogging from 5:30 to 6:00. It takes me so long to get ready for work because I'm constantly second guessing whether I want to go, having to be your boss and all." House sat awestruck while Cuddy fidgeted around, looking for something. "Could you hand me that blanket behind you please?" she asked, her voice hoarse from talking so much.

"You know for a sick person, you're being awfully sarcastic." He handed her the blanket and she wrapped herself into a cocoon with it. Cuddy smiled but then started coughing hard, bending over as she did so. Something took over House, something he couldn't control. He slid himself over and started rubbing her back. "Just cough it all up," he said soothingly. "It'll be all right." Finally she stopped and she sunk herself back down into the couch, which also included sinking into House, with his arm still around her.

He was again awestruck by his own actions, but it seemed as if Cuddy was either completely fine with it, or completely oblivious. She laid her head against his chest, too weak and too sick to care what the consequences of her actions would be. House looked down at her, her breathing shallow, eyes closed, and a few fly away hairs near his nose and mouth. Without even realizing it, he started stroking her arm with the hand that was around her, trying to comfort her.

After a few minutes or so Cuddy finally opened her eyes to his navy blue dress shirt. She took a deep breath and whispered, "You know, you smell a lot better than I thought you would."

"Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?" He took in the smell of her hair as he thought to himself that this really wasn't all that bad. In fact, he wouldn't rather be doing anything else in the world right now, but Cuddy couldn't know that. She shifted herself a bit and looked up at House while her fingers absentmindedly traced the light stripes on his shirt.

"I think you should take it as a compliment."

"Well I thank you then," he chuckled lightly.

"Shh... Wait, I think I just heard your heart grow about three sizes. Are you sure you're not the Grinch? I mean, last time I checked you're not green, but..."

This time he burst out in laughter. "Again, with the sick person being awfully sarcastic." He sighed and they continued to sit there. "Feeling any better? Need anything?"

"Could you get me some Tylenol?"

"Hmmm... I suppose I could. Where's it at?" Cuddy sat her self up as House got up off of the couch.

"Medicine cabinet in the bathroom. The non-drowsy stuff please." He limped over to the bathroom and found some non-drowsy cold medicine. House brought the entire bottle out and tossed it into Cuddy's lap, but the blanket caught it. "Thanks."

House sat back down next to her, and grabbed the bottle back before she had a chance to open it.

"Ah, ah, ah. If I'm being forced to take care of you, I'm gonna do it right. Besides, Wilson will give me hell if I don't," he smiled. Cuddy stared at him, loving the dimples that formed on his face when he truly smiled, something she, or anyone else for that matter, rarely got to see. She chuckled as he opened the bottle and poured a couple pills into his hand. "Two enough?"

"Yeah." She took a sip of her now cooler coffee and swallowed the pills. Sinking back down into the couch, she returned to her original position with her head on House's chest. "What time is Prescription Passion on?"

House checked his watch and replied, "It's already over now, but it's fine."

"Sorry you missed your show."

"Nah, it's fine. I should have missed it anyway, since if I was at the hospital I would have been working."

"We both know that if you were at the hospital you wouldn't be working."

He chuckled again. "You know me all too well." Cuddy smirked and looked up at him again.


"That's me."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Sure," he said, leaning his head back over the back of the couch.

"This is-" RING!

"God damnit! Sorry, it's Wilson checking in on me like I'm a child." He opened his phone. "Yes Wilson?"

"How's it going?"

"Oh just fine. Well for me anyway, I mean Cuddy's still sick but there's not much I can do about a cold."

"And you're behaving yourself?" Cuddy muffled her laughter at Wilson's comment.

"Wilson I'm not five!"

"Let me talk to Cuddy."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, she's in the bathroom at the moment."

"Well... just behave yourself and help Cuddy out. You know, be a human for once."

"Right, well I gotta go. Cuddy needs me to go get her some other needless thing," he winked at her as he said this, "Bye." House closed his phone shut and tossed it onto the coffee table. "So you were saying?"

"Never mind... It's nothing."

"Now wait a minute, you can't just leave me hanging like that! What were you were going to say?" House wrapped his other arm around her, clasping his hands together. "Before you answer, let me comment on the fact that you feel like you're burning up!"

"I'm freezing actually. There's a thermometer in the bathroom."

"Hold your horses." He slowly leaned his head down and pressed his lips to her forehead, praying she was feeling the same way. "Yep, you've definitely got a fever. I'll go get the thermometer to see how bad it is." House came back, thermometer in hand. "Open wide."

House slipped the device under her tongue and waited for it to beep. He watched it climb, finally stopping at 101.2. Cuddy pulled it out of her mouth and looked at the number in disgust. "You've got a fever."

"Thank you Dr. House, I had no idea."

"Does being sick make you even more sarcastic than usual? Or maybe I'm just wearing off on you?" Cuddy smiled at his comment.

"Well, I feel like an icicle, and you're awfully warm. Maybe I need to snuggle up closer to you," she dared, going with House's earlier move. He laughed and pulled her closer.

"This better?" he asked.

"Much. Oh, and what I wanted to tell you earlier: This is really nice. Thank you." House smiled and leaned his head down onto Cuddy's.

"No problem. I'm a doctor, it's what I do."


15 minutes earlier...

Wilson was on his lunch break and didn't believe a word of what House had said about everything being just fine. He practically ran out the door and hopped into his car, speeding towards Cuddy's house. Wilson quickly got out, and ran up the steps. When he finally got to the door, he started to second guess himself. If something was truly wrong Cuddy would've called.

House could be holding her hostage or something, he thought, but then realized that even for House, this was a wild move. He put his ear to the door, and could hear House saying, "No problem. I'm a doctor, it's what I do". Well, it couldn't be too bad, but he had to check anyway, to calm his nerves. He turned the doorknob, hoping everything was all right.


The door opened on House and Cuddy, and Wilson came bursting in to find them sitting on the couch, House's arms around her. Both heads turned and looked at the intruder. "I, I, I was just checking in, making sure you were all right Cuddy," he stuttered.

"I'm fine Wilson, thanks for asking."

"But, what- You- I don't understan-"

"She's really really cold Wilson," said House. "What did you expect me to do?" Cuddy was trying not to burst out in laughter at their argument.

"Well, I don't know... You know what, I'm gonna go now. Don't want to catch whatever you've got Cuddy. Hope you feel better." Wilson quickly turned and slammed the door shut. House turned back to Cuddy.

"Well that was awkward," he joked.

"Yeah, um what do you think he's going to say?" She wrapped her right arm over his chest, and her left around his back, clasping her hands together also.

"Er... Maybe he'll think it was all a dream. Or he'll come and consult me first, worried that I'm going to get some sexual harassment charge on me." Cuddy chuckled at his ideas. "You're not going to are you?"

"Of course not!"

"Phew! So, is the medicine starting to work?" He pressed his lips against her forehead again. "I think your fever's gone down." House turned his head towards the kitchen. "You hungry?"

"Yeah. There's some lunch meat in the refrigerator. You can make sandwiches." House unclasped his hands and slowly got up, making sure not to pull the blanket off of Cuddy.

"I can do better than just sandwiches," he grinned. House went and started raiding the fridge, looking for a food to make a gourmet meal. "All right, so you don't have that much I can work from here. BLT's ok?"

"That's great," said Cuddy. "Listen, House, you don't have to go to all this trouble." Bacon was already frying in a pan however and a tomato was being sliced. Not long after, House was bringing over two BLT sandwiches on paper plates.

"Lunch is served," he said as he handed Cuddy hers.

"Thank you Chef House." She took a bite out of her sandwich. "This is really good!"

"Either my cooking really is that good, or you're starting to feel better," said House, already done with his. He set down his plate next to his cold coffee cup, waiting for Cuddy to finish. "You wanna watch a movie or something?"

"Sure," she said. "There's a whole row of them in the cabinet under the TV." House limped over and got down onto the floor, opening the cabinet door.

"Hmmm... Any particular one you want to watch?"

"Nope, whatever you want." House pulled out a DVD from the bunch.

"How about this one? Sherlock Holmes good? I haven't seen it yet. Wilson took it back to the movie store for me before I had a chance to watch it." Cuddy smirked at his suggestion, knowing that the character of Sherlock Holmes was the only person, granted fictional, that had abilities similar to his own.

"That's great." House painfully stood up, put the disc into the DVD player, and came back and sat down, automatically putting his arms back around Cuddy. She slipped hers back into the same position as before, and they sunk down to watch the movie. House's eyes were glued to the screen, and finally after two hours or so Cuddy was asleep on his chest, her breathing matching his own. He almost got up to take the disc out, but he didn't want to disturb Cuddy.

He leaned his head back, trying to fall asleep himself when he heard a smash and something tumbling down the steps. "What was that?" she asked groggily.

"Probably a squirrel or something just came through the window. I'll go check." House got up and walked over to the foot of the stairs to find a Wilson shaped heap on laying on the ground. He took his cane and poked him in the face a few times. "I think it might have cancer!" he yelled out. "It's dead now!" He came back and sat down, wrapping his arms around Cuddy once more.

Unknowing to Cuddy, but to House, Wilson had managed to crawl over behind the couch. House grabbed his cane, and dropped it behind him, landing on Wilson. A girlish whimper came from Wilson, who was in extreme pain, and he quickly scampered towards the door. "Was that Wilson?" she asked.

"Would you be mad if I said yes?"

"I don't even want to know," she said, snuggling into House. "You like the movie?"

"It was great! I may have to borrow it from you, to show Wilson."

Cuddy took in his musky scent, lightly mixed with cologne and said, "You can keep it."

"Really? It is yours..."

"Shut up," she said, meeting his electric blue eyes. "I'm actually feeling better, and now you're going to give me a headache."

"All right then. Well if you're feeling better, that means I can do this." House leaned his head down, making his most daring move yet. His lips met hers, and it was pure bliss. He quickly pulled away though, afraid that it was going to be a big mistake. "That was-

"Perfect," she smiled.

"Yeah," he said, his lips meeting hers once more, "perfect." Little did they know, Wilson was standing right outside the window, looking in on the scene before him.