How the Other Half Lived

"What you want, you run away from. What you need, you don't have a clue."

-Gregory House

By: Ophelia Forbes

Disclaimer: The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

Summary: It was time to go, she had to go, but will he stop her? Is he ready to lay everything down the line, to finally forgive and move on…for her. And will she let him?

Spoilers/Timeline: Christmas is COMING. Supposedly, this is the first week of December.

Author's Note: What's not funny? A person working on in a radio station with no voice…Yup, I am officially mute. Not a sound is coming out of my mouth so…I don't have a job. The good part is summer is almost over so I'm not so bummed. I've been sick for about a week now, no voice, barking like a dog—coughed up one lung already and spiking fevers every now and then. My summer is not turning ideal.

I'm literally walking around with my very own mini-whiteboard for talking. It's not fun.

And I haven't updated, I am sorry to say, because our damned internet line got cut off for two weeks—I'm only getting on line now at home and couldn't post using public computers because I was too sick and I had migraines that almost made me want to shoot my head off literally.

BUT Of course, I did bite the bullet—with my parents waiting outside—and went to an internet café to watch "Under My Skin" and holy freaking crap…Tell me House and Cuddy FINALLY sealed the deal FOR REAL? If this turns out into some sick hallucination, I am going to be doing some SERIOUS bitching. (Don't say I didn't warn you, David!)

And…Ohmygod, who saw the promo for Both Sides Now? Holy shit. Why was Cuddy crying? What was up with that infrared picture? She was the one holding it right? (Evidence: the hand with the picture was holding a pen on the left hand, it was female and it just had to be her—and I am using the same evidences for that hand that seemingly threw a pill bottle)…this better not break my Huddy-heart.

And yes, let my mourning officially commence—won't be seeing House until September. Holy shit, this is going to be a GREAT DEPRESSION, it's not even funny.

Anyway, I hope you guys are still interested. I've changed a few things here…next chapter will probably have Cuddy and Tim in New York, but you can bet your tush House and Cuddy are going to have a moment before she leaves.

I love you guys, I hope you'll forgive me for my absence. And now…I give you, 21 (ah, I remember Ridiculously Old Fraud fondly…he was cool).

Chapter Twenty-One: The Sweet Escape

House sat slumped in his seat, his oversized tennis ball pressed to his forehead by his long elegant fingers of his right hand while the other gripped the handle on his seat. At the strike of five, he was already making his way out of his office, intending on dragging Wilson to the nearest bar for a drink or ten when Kutner came sliding in, the test results in hand and a new symptom, crossing out the initial diagnosis.

The new symptom had thrown him off and now he was staring at the white board outside his main office, with the new symptoms written in bold black letters, as if taunting him.

Paranoia

Hyperthermia

Both symptoms immediately crossed out Wolfram's Disease which now meant they were once again back to zero. He had assigned Thirteen and Taub to keep the patient's temperature down before her brain melted, giving him more time to diagnose. He was running out of time and even with Foreman and Kutner in the room, they were going nowhere.

It was past midnight now and he as running out of both time and patience.

"Give me anything," House muttered. "Give me some stupid idea I can spin gold from."

"We've crossed out the possible symptoms," Foreman said.

"No, wehave crossed out possible symptoms," House snarked. "Youwere out playing in your little lab curing your girlfriend's disease!" He scowled. "Now come up with something before I decide to fire you for being useless!"

"She's not eating," Kutner said, standing up from his seat in the conference room. "She's not eating…"

"And? Wanna shove some happy down her throat?" House glared.

Kutner shook his head, "What if not eating is a symptom?"

House rolled his eyes, "Loss of appetite ring a bell to you?"

"Yes," Kutner said. "But…"

House tossed his ball aside. "This is stupid."

"Where are you going?" Foreman asked, annoyed. "We need to diagnose…"

"No, Ineed to diagnose," House said haughtily. "So I'mgoing to see my patient, something youhaven't done since this case started so way to go, super doctor. Why don't you go to the land of false hope and kill your patients? I'm sure your girlfriend would just love that."

Foreman scowled, "You let me do this, you allowed…"

"Yes, but I didn't expect it was going to turn you useless," House said over his shoulder as Kutner followed him out. "At least my patient has more chances of living."

Hobbling through the halls, House growled under his breath as he felt his muscles begin to ache and protest, screaming for a narcotic release. Blindly, he reached into his pocket for his bottle, snapping it expertly open in one hand and bringing the brim to his lips, sucking out three in one breath. That should give him a few more hours.

Pushing the doors open, House slipped into the room to find Taub and Thirteen with the patient who was covered in cooling blankets and ice packs, shivering. A curly dark haired man he didn't know stood next to her and House pegged him as her boyfriend.

"She's hot," House said simply.

"This is Dr. House," Thirteen said dryly. "He's your attending, he's pleased to meet you."

"Yeah," House agreed. "Cause she's hot—and by hot, I mean I like what I see." He shrugged. "The whole temperature thing has nothing to do with it—well, not in non-medical stuff anyway."

"This is Mariana Dune," Taub presented, giving House a look. "And her boyfriend Aaron Larson."

"Good to meet you, Dr. House," the man said, extending a hand to House. "I've heard great things about you."

"Yeah," House said, shrugging, ignoring the extended hand and paying attention to Taub more. "And you didn't have to bother with the names, I wouldn't have remembered anyway."

Aaron stared at him a moment before taking a seat next to Mariana.

"So, cool huh?" House said conversationally.

"Y-yeah," she stammered, shivering. "How long-do-do I have t-to do this?"

"Until your body stops trying to melt your brain," he said simply before turning to his team. "Any changes?"

"Not much," Taub said. "But she's not getting worst so the ice bath isn't necessary for now."

"Ice bath?" Aaron asked.

Thirteen nodded, "If her temperature spikes any higher, we will have to give her an ice bath. Hopefully it'll lower her body temperature and give us more time to figure out what's wrong with her."

"Can't-can't you just give her something?" Aaron asked, taking his girlfriend's hand in his. "I mean, she's already going through this artic ice bed thing, an ice bath is just…"

House rolled his eyes, "Do you want your girlfriend to die so you won't have to break up with her?"

"No," Aaron said, eyes wide. "Why would you—"

"Cause if her temperature gets any higher and you don't want us to get her in a tub full of ice water then she's going to die," House said as if it was obvious. "So, you wanna tell her, or should I, hombre?"

Aaron shook his head, "This is crazy."

"Yeah, I know," House rolled his eyes. "Have any of you been out of the country?"

"No," the couple said at the same time.

"Have any of your friends been out of the country."

"I don't think so," Mariana said, shivering.

House turned to the boyfriend, "And you don't have friends, right?"

"I do," Aaron said. "We have the same friends and no, none of them have been anywhere."

"House, what are you doing?" Taub asked. "We already took a detailed history. There wasn't much to get considering she was adopted."

"Well, sometimes, doctors miss something like," he pretended to look thoughtful. "Like the patient may be lying and all that, so they miss something crucial that would eventually lead to the patient's death because their detailed history wasn't so detailed."

"We're not lying."

"I know," House muttered. "But I'm talking in general here. You two might just be the exception."

The sarcasm wasn't hard to miss.

Aaron shook his head. "I don't understand what's happening here. You're her doctor, but this is the first time you've ever been to see her and now that you're here, you don't do anything."

"I'm doing something," House said, shrugging. "I'm trying to catch what my team missed, but if you really want me around your girlfriend, hey, I'm all for it." He smirked. "I like to watch."

"This is a joke, right?" Aaron said, standing up and turning to Thirteen. "You can't seriously be saying this piece of crap is Mar's doctor."

"Baby," Mariana said, stifling the chattering of her teeth. "It's-it's okay. Shh…"

House rolled his eyes, "And you say I'm the one not doing anything…I think that has to be better than doing everything wrong."

"What?" Aaron glared at him. There was no love lost between visitor and doctor.

"At least I'm not failing miserably to be boyfriend of the year," House said simply. "You're here," he pointed his cane at the blonde and blue eyed man, five or so inches shorter than him. "Desperately trying to be there for your sick and possibly dying tiny dancer when all you're doing is adding more crap on her plate therefore, not at all helping with her condition."

"What? That's not true, I've been here for her…"

"House."

"Yeah, but looks like you're failing the comfort department," House taunted, ignoring the mighty Taub who was once again deluding himself into thinking he could control his boss. "You're supposed to be here, taking her mind off the ice cold blanket wrapped around her and yet she's the one trying to placate you because you're attacking her doctor."

"I-I-…" Aaron stammered.

"Yeah, I'm good," House said then turned to his team. "Page me if she gets worst."

"Where are you going?" Taub asked, skeptical as always.

"I'm going to get some sleep," he muttered as he left the room. "If I want to see a quivering, shaking body, this isn't the show I'd pick. Nighty-night, darlings."

Lumbering out of the room, House left his team and his patient. He wasn't going home, no, but he was going to get some sleep. There wasn't much point in bothering with watching the patient shiver. He was tired, plain and simple. He was tempted to leave and slip into the nearest bar with racks full of alcoholic drinks, but he couldn't, not while he still had a patient.

Slipping into his office, he grabbed his coat. He needed sleep and usually, his office would have worked, but as Cuddy had mentioned a few weeks prior—the walls weren't sound proof which meant that once his team decided to come back, there were going to be some chattering and talking. He didn't want or need that.

House just needed a place to sleep.

-o0o-

Watching their department head walk off, Taub placed the patient's chart in Thirteen's hand as his phone began to ring. Glancing at it he looked at her then at Kutner, bypassing Foreman. "I need to go and take this."

"Who is it?" Kutner asked curiously.

"It's my wife," he said before slipping out.

Making sure he wasn't followed he placed the phone to his ear. "Hey."

"Can you escape or what?"

He smirked, "My boss just slipped out, I don't see a reason why I can't."

"Great. What about your wife?"

"She's home, she's going to be fine," Taub said. "I already told her we've got a patient. She gets the doctor's life, especially mine."

"Yeah, your boss is something, I know."

"Yeah," Taub muttered. "So…what do you say?"

"Meet you there."

"Great," he grinned but quickly wiped the look off his face as he heard the doors to the patient's room slide open. "Listen, I'll get back to you, okay? I'll see you later."

"Great, don't be late."

"Yes," Taub nodded and waited for the phone to click, ending the connection before speaking again. "You rest, hun, we're gonna take a while…okay, love you too. Bye."

He let his phone slide close and slipped it back into his pocket, turning just in time to see Thirteen and Foreman. "Hey, what's up?"

"Her temperature dropped, the ice packs are working," Thirteen informed him. "Is your wife okay? It's pretty late for her to be awake…"

"She's feeling a little sick," Taub said swiftly. "I told her to call me if she felt worst."

"Oh," Thirteen said. "How bad?"

"She's presenting some flu like symptoms," Taub tried to sound nonchalant. "It's the cold."

Thirteen glanced at Foreman, "Maybe you should get home to her, we can take the shift tonight. Your wife needs you."

"Yeah," Thirteen said, smiling a little. "House slipped out, you can too if your wife needs you."

Taub looked thankful. "Really?"

"Yeah," Thirteen smiled. "Besides, it'll annoy House so you should definitely go."

Taub smiled, "Thanks."

Foreman nodded, "Yeah. Just go."

Waving slightly, Taub turned away from the couple. He easily shook off the little remorse he felt about bailing out on the job and basically lying to their faces. They would never know, they would deal with it fine and the patient was okay. There was no reason to stay, not really.

The slight guilt he felt about taking advantage of his colleagues' sympathy and care were easily swept under the carpet—what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them and this was something he had to do, they would understand.

This was really…important.

But that doesn't mean he wasn't aware of the fact that he was probably just an ass like House.

Just like the guilt, he shook that one off too.

-o0o-

"I think it's time."

Cuddy ignored Tim as she stood in the middle of an elegantly designed Louis XIV inspired room and had she been kidnapped and thrown into the room unconscious, she wouldn't have guessed that beyond the crimson red double doors she'd just been escorted into was a full-fledged gentlemen's club complete with dimmed lights, catwalks, exposed flesh and poles.

The Prestige was a new club opened at the heart of Princeton, New Jersey where the rich and sophisticated businessmen entertained and got entertained by elegantly and erotically dressed women. The club was a more sophisticated version strip club, hence the classier label 'gentlemen's club'. Very high society and definitely costing a pretty penny, that much was clear.

Cuddy had heard of the place, of course, through some of her visiting male donors from other cities and from bigger companies that wanted some entertainment during their stay in the town. She'd heard of the place, but never gone. The hospital was her playing field and the donors understood that well enough not to make her join them.

After all, she was in the business of healing and helping, not entertaining them beyond the walls of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. She was only glad they respected her that much. The leering and the lingering touches here and there during tours and conversations were fine to brush off, but bringing her in places like The Prestige was simply out of the question and an outright sign of disrespect to her both as a professional and a woman.

If they had tried, Cuddy herself would have asked them to shove their donations down their throat and get screwed because she wasn't interested.

She was thankful nothing of the sort has yet to happen for her to take such…damning measures.

But if only they saw her now…Cuddy was sure she could possibly kill Tim then.

"Time for what?" she asked, turning to Tim, realizing ignoring her might do more damage than it could prevent.

"I scheduled some…activities with the ladies earlier," Tim coyly, draping herself onto a Louis XIV chaise lounge, crooking a finger at Tatiana—a ridiculous name though Cuddy didn't bother to comment.

Seemingly from nowhere, music played with sounds of sensual and light tones, thoroughly seductive and definitely erotic in a way that would have been perfect background music while writhing in soft waves of ecstasy.

Cuddy swayed to the music, drink in hand, dancing with the rented gorgeous redhead in patent leather high heels with straps that zigzagged up to her calves, silk and lace emerald green bustier that matched her eyes and fishnet stockings complete with garter belt that almost matched the ones Tim had chosen for her that morning.

Despite her Tim and Partypants past, she could honestly admit she had never had a lesbian experience. She wasn't a prude—House would laugh his bad leg off if someone said she was—but she wasn't as adventurous as Tim.

She knew her insane best friend already had her fair share of lesbian experiences and Cuddy never really dove into the details. She wasn't interested, as far as women were concerned. She knew how to admire women, of course, she could spot beauty and elegance, but never felt the need to touch or taste so she stood there, swaying and occasionally outright dancing with the redhead without actually touching her erotically while Tim lapped up her lap dance.

Cuddy looked her paid partner over, with her red hair and green eyes and mused she was beautiful and somewhat gorgeous with her legs and china white complexion. Supposed if Cuddy was a lesbian, she would have gone for her, but apart from appreciating beauty, that was about it. She felt no sexual attraction, no pull or want to touch her, nothing.

She just liked men too much to bat for the other team.

"I already told you, I am not having sex with anyone—women included," Cuddy said, hands on her hips then turned to the redhead. "No offense—it's nothing personal."

"For shit's sake, Lee," Tim said from her position on the chaise where Tatiana was now giving her a very physical lap dance. "Just sit back and enjoy. You don't have to fuck or touch—hell, talk to keep dancing. Just have fun." She turned to the lone, untouched woman, "Darling, why don't you get my friend another drink? She's pretty wound tight—she used to be a whore-bitch, but she's gone all grown-up on me, I'm hoping for a resurrection."

The woman smiled and headed for the fully-stocked bar, seemingly fine with being a bartender instead of entertainment. Cuddy watched her, readily admitting to herself that even with walking, teetering on four-inch-high heels, the woman was sensual and graceful without meaning to.

A part of her wondered if she had something in her brain or if she really was just this—entertainment and body.

She's spent the few hours in the elegant room dancing, swaying and letting go a little. They were the only ones there, they had privacy and Cuddy could act like a whore if she wanted to.

"What's her name, love?" Tim asked Tatiana, pulling the woman on her lap, letting her straddle her thighs, obviously taking advantage of the freedom to see and observe her research subject.

"Scarlet," Tatiana breathed, leaning down to place a kiss on her neck. "Named for her hair…she's quite famous around here with the patrons."

Tim looked the woman over, "I can see why."

"Your friend should take to her, everyone does," Tatiana whispered with a seductive smile. "But I'm sure you won't have anything to worry about…"

Tim laughed, deep in her throat. "Oh, darling, that would be something, but I'll let you in on a secret…" she smiled over at Cuddy who was watching and listening still. "We're not gay."

Tatiana quirked an eyebrow at Cuddy who nodded at her, confirming that she was indeed not gay. "I believe her, but you…" she bent low, breathing against her lips. "You feel different to me."

"I feel different to everyone," Tim replied, slipping her hands around her waist. "Excuse me."

Gracefully, Tim got up, plopping the scantily clad woman on the chaise and drifted over to Cuddy. She smiled, "Darling, you're supposed to be having fun."

"I was—I am," Cuddy replied. "And I think I've seen enough girl-on-girl action for one night. Time to go, I think, before I get too drunk to drive…"

"No," Tim said, gripping her arms. "Sweetie, come on. Scarlet," she motioned to the woman bring them drinks. "Is not a novice. She's apparently quite famous and…" she smiled, "She might just convert you."

"I don't think so," Cuddy muttered. "She's gorgeous, but that's pretty much it. You see, I'm a big fan of, ahem, dicks."

Tim grinned, "You like dicks and God, to hear you say dick already made this night worth it. When was the last time you said dick anyway? Even I can't remember."

"Which isn't such a bad sign," Cuddy said with a grin. "Can you even remember last week?"

Tim thought for a moment, "No, not really."

"See?" Cuddy chuckled. "You forgetting is really not a big deal. Don't worry, we're used to it."

"Miss?" Scarlet was back with her drink.

Cuddy took the drink, "Thank you…Scarlet. You can call me—"

"Lee," Tim inserted. "You can call her Lee and I'm Tim—and no, she's not gay and I've hired you to at least turn her for the night, you're reputation sounds…promising."

Scarlet smiled, "Very well then,"

Tim smiled, "Excellent. Now…ladies, like I said, I think it's time to start tonight's main event?"

Cuddy watched Tim blow the woman a kiss before skipping off back to her awaiting hostess. She sipped her drink, nervously. She wasn't gay, never had the tendency to become one. It was true, she was a very big and loyal fan of the male anatomy.

What could this Scarlet woman do to her?

"Are you ready?" Scarlet asked, taking her hand and Cuddy noted she had quite long nails, of course, in a deep shade of red like blood. "Lee?"

"For what?" Cuddy asked, curious. "Whatever my friend planned—she never shared with me so…what's going on?"

Scarlet smiled, "Your friend scheduled an interesting activity for tonight."

Cuddy felt her heartbeat take a faster pace. What the hell was Tim on to now? She'd been on with Tim's plans in the past and most of them usually involved a lot of embarrassment and, on special occasions, a free ticket to the police department. Tim always liked pushing boundaries and in the past, Cuddy had been foolish enough to join her, but not now.

She was a doctor—a Dean of Medicine and Chief Administrator of one of the best hospitals in the East Coast, there was no way she was risking that and her reputation for one night of drunken debauchery in an upscale strip club no matter how much they promised privacy.

"What type of activity exactly?" she asked warily.

Scarlet smiled and waved a graceful hand, "That."

Skeptical, Cuddy turned to see that the heavy red drapes at the corner of the room had been pulled aside to reveal a small stage. Tatiana stood in the middle on one foot, the other curled around what looked like a silver pole.

The lights dimmed darker and the stage lit up, like a mini version of the stage on the main floor. Tatiana, her lithe body illuminated by the light, placed both hands around the pole and swung her body around then twisted until her high heels were up high in the air and her head at the bottom, her hair spread around the floor, legs curled around to hold on to the pole to complete her pose.

Tim got up the stage, smiling proudly. "My darling Lee-la," she cooed, extending her arms out to Cuddy who stood gaping at the woman who was still suspended upside down by her body. "This is my gift to you…"

"What?" Cuddy asked, staring at Tatiana still. "A hemorrhaged exotic dancer?"

Tim shook her head, chuckling. "No, no, love. This," she motioned to Tatiana who immediately unhooked her legs and let her body fold to the side until she flipped and landed on her feet, one hand still wrapped around the pole, the other high in the air proudly. "Is my gift—a lesson."

"Huh?"

"A lesson," Scarlet said, wrapping a hand around Cuddy's waist casually. "On stripping and dancing...around a pole—basically, we're going to teach you how to be us."

"What?" Cuddy exclaimed, turning to the redhead. "Are you serious?"

"See? She's very excited," Tim said cheerily. "Now let's—"

"No, no, no, no and no!" Cuddy exclaimed, waving her arms around. "I am not stripping or wrapping myself around a pole. No way and I would rather wrap my car around a street lamp, Tim, are you out of your mind?"

"Yes, but you already know that," Tim said casually. "Sweetie, it's just a lesson—you know, be sexier and all that. Burlesque and stripping is the perfect mix, my love, it's absolutely fantastic. It's quite famous now—it's like yoga only with better costumes and, of course, a pole."

"I like my yoga so no, thank you, I'm perfectly fine," Cuddy huffed. "Where's my purse? I am getting out of here."

"First off," Tim said, hopping off the stage. "I drove here, remember? And you've tossed back a few drinks so no, you are not driving. Second, I paid for this shindig already, no way in hell I'm wasting this and third," she grabbed Cuddy's arm. "You are fucking moving that ass tonight whether you like it or not."

"Or what?" Cuddy hissed. "This is insane, Tim, I am going home, I need to call a cab. For god's sake, I am seeing my brother tomorrow!"

"Exactly," Tim growled. "Exactly, you are seeing your brother tomorrow—your dying brother. You think you'll be able to sleep tonight? You're going to lie in bed, all night, thinking about this and everything else. Trust me," she was gentler now. "You need this."

Cuddy looked around the room, entranced again by how everything seemed like they were in such a different world. She had to be grateful to Tim, for doing this, knowing this was her way of distracting her and taking her mind of what was coming. This was her way of making what would have been a night of staring at the ceiling more eventful and like pressing fast forward since so far, the night had gone completely like a blur in The Prestige.

"Darling," Tim said, placing her hands on her shoulders. "You know there's only one way this situation can end—and it's gonna be with me possibly with my foot on your neck." A dangerous smile appeared on her face, "Or, I'm sure, they have some ropes around here, right ladies?"

"Definitely," Tatiana said, hanging her arms around Tim, seemingly glad she thought she had the dominant one between them. "Some customers here have…special needs."

Cuddy stared at the two women in front of her, weighing her options until she decided she wasn't about to test that claim. With Tim and a place like The Prestige, God only knew what went on in there and she wasn't about to dare them to make prove to her what they had and didn't have because she was sure, somewhere there actually were ropes, chains and possibly whips and maybe floggers around—things she knew Tim was no stranger to.

Not that she knew Tim ever let someone hit her with anything because Cuddy was sure if there was anyone who had to hold a whip and do the hitting—Tim was going to be doing that.

The woman bowed to no one, just like she had taught Cuddy.

"I am not dancing," she forced out, hands on her hips, still wanting to take some sort of semblance of control in the entire thing.

Tatiana draped an arm around Tim's waist and Scarlet took her other side, pressing her body flush against the dark haired woman, who in a way was their boss for the night.

Tim stood, very much like a female version of Hugh Hefner with her very own non-bunnies, and smiled sweetly, "Whatever you say, darling."

-o0o-

Shrugging his coat off, House closed the door behind him followed by the cool click of the lock sliding in place. Looking around the darkened office, he decided choosing to stay the night here was one of his better ideas of the day. In the darkness, the room was calm, quiet and relaxed where the stresses the day usually brought in nowhere to be felt or seen. Everything was hidden in the shadows.

Just the way he liked it.

Tossing his coat on the armchair, he kicked off his shoes and tossed his beeper and phone onto the glass table with not much thought. Hobbling to the bookcase, he reached under the small drawer at the bottom, cursing under his breath as his thigh protested against the strain. Quickly, he pulled out the afghan he knew would be there as it always was.

Tucking the folded fabric against his body, he hobbled back to where he planned to rest for the night, sure now that he had everything he needed. Carefully, he eased himself onto the couch, letting his body soak up the comfort the soft cushions, letting his long legs extend out fully, kicking off his shoes and wriggling his toes inside his socks.

The length was perfect for him and for reasons more than the fact that he was full of himself, he thought the buyer simply chose this particular couch to accommodate his height as if aware one day he would be settling his tired body on it.

Laying his cane on the floor under him, he grabbed a pillow and placed it underneath his head, wondering just how probable it was that Lisa Cuddy did choose this particular couch with him in mind—or even better, with both of them in mind. The thing was big enough for two to sleep on.

Now that would have been interesting.

He smirked as he imagined her rolling her eyes at his presumptuousness, imagining that look on her face as she reminded him once again about the size of his ego. He could only guess what witty retort she would needle with him, sure that it would drip with sarcasm rivaling acid.

Grinning to himself, he made sure his bottle of pills stood next to his strewn mobile phone and beeper, almost sure that hours later he would be woken up by something inkling to a shrieking harpy which would require the little white pills' help to help his transition from sleep to full-on House-ass mode. He wanted to be ready once he'd been caught and found out.

Closing his eyes, he grinned again at the thought of being found out by the owner of the chic office, only just imagining her reactions knowing it could be a variety of things. Nonetheless, no matter how she reacted, he knew it was still going to be interesting.

As his mind gave signs that maybe, just this once, he wasn't going to be attacked by his nightly best friend named insomnia, he wondered why he never thought of doing this before.

With a contented sigh, Greg House let his eyes slip close, letting the warmth of the afghan envelope him in a warm embrace, he drifted in the darkened comfort of Lisa Cuddy's office.

He would wait for tomorrow, sleep was coming easily to him now.

-o0o-

"Chris!"

He looked up just in time to see his friend wave him over to a table full of women and some guys. Neil Zane, an old schoolmate, had invited him that night for some mingling and letting loose at a swanky new strip club at the city. He didn't remember the guy, but he was younger and like any other kid, he didn't really care about the younger ones behind him then.

But the fact that the guy was seemingly secured in a cushy job with a great business potential for him, Chris Taub really couldn't turn down this offer.

He was honest, especially with himself and the bitter truth was, Taub hated his life now. A few months back, he was a top-plastic surgeon rivaling the biggest names in New York with a beautiful salary and a good, comfortable marriage. His practice was in New Jersey complete with a rehab facility and a lot of women—from New York and other places—went to them because they were safely away from prying eyes. His practice worked for people who didn't want to be found out going under the knife.

Taub wasn't going to lie—he wanted that life back, wanted that salary, but after his stupidity and carelessness, there was no going back. Working for Greg House, while prestigious in name and profession, wasn't really doing much money-wise. Taub was older than the other fellows, he didn't need the credits, he was fine on his own.

He didn't need Greg House's name on his resume.

What he needed was money.

And Neil Zane was looking like a good ticket for that.

So here he was, standing in a strip club after just weeks of confessing and promising his wife the things he had done and never wanted to do again. Rachel was just starting to understand, a gracious move while other women would have tossed his ass out, and yet here he was.

If she found out, Taub knew it was going to be ugly.

But he was doing this more for her—really—at the beginning, he assured her and eased her a good life with the promises of his budding career. This slump in the financial aspect of their lives was something she did not bargain for, something she never signed up for despite their marriage vows with the "for richer, for poorer" aspect. Taub knew his wife deserved the best, deserved the life she had gotten used to living. He owed her that much and more, now more than ever.

He just needed a little help, a little work of miracles.

And that was where Neil Zane, the CEO, comes in.

"Glad you made it!" Neil said, clapping him on the back. "Ladies and gents, this is my friend, Dr. Chris Taub. He's great! He fixed this problem I had I told you guys about."

The three guys with the drinks and women wrapped around them raised their drinks high and cheered him. Introductions were made and Taub lost interest when he found out they were nobodies. He was seated next to Neil and the night was only starting.

Neil introduced him to a raven haired beauty, Svetlana, and what was a guy supposed to do? He grabbed the drink he was offered and gave in to the toasts.

The party was just beginning.

-o0o-

"Swing your leg there…"

Tim squealed with glee, tossing back a shot of tequila as she watched Lisa sigh loudly once more for what Tim was sure was the millionth time. She watched as Lisa stood perched on the top of the stage holding the silver pole with the two professionals, instructing her on what to do. There was a look of absolute murder on her face as she visibly clutched the pole with suppressed rage.

Of course, the two women, Tatiana and Scarlet were aware of Lisa's…reluctance to participate but Tim had put her "excellent" abilities in Public Relations and used them on Lisa.

Tim had threatened some very bad things looming in Lisa's future that might or might not involve some incriminating and downright embarrassing photos from their wilder days. Lisa had fought tooth and nail, literally kicking and screaming but seeing as she stood there on stage being told where to put her leg, she had quite so obviously lost.

They both knew well enough Tim was not one to back down on her promises and threats.

The scatterbrained lawyer-slash-producer-slash-everything-else was sure the doctor would prefer one night of embarrassment in a confined room than to have whatever pictures stored see the light of day knowing there were some memorable ones when Tim was on her 'photographer' phase where she had used Lisa as her test mannequin for some staged shots.

And their non-staged pictures didn't have to be mentioned through Lisa's less-than-tamed years. Tim had kept the pictures, all of them and she wasn't afraid to use…some of them.

Some pictures really were just meant to burn…in due time.

Scarlet chuckled, "Lisa, just put your leg there." She motioned with her hand, bending at the waist to touch her "student's" leg only to have her jump back.

Tim suppressed another squeal and tossed back another shot.

Lisa let out a growl, "I know where to put my leg! I've seen you do about five times already! I am not an idiot—I finished medical school, for god's sakes. The problem isn't me! It's my damned skirt and I am not about to strip for you right here!"

"Well, we have a dressing room out back…" Tatiana said, obviously the more playful one in the group, giggling as the irate woman gave her a glare while the redhead shook her head slightly.

"Well maybe we can…" Scarlet was saying when Tim rolled her eyes and got to her feet, pulling her body off the very comfortable chaise lounge she was seriously thinking about buying off from the joint. She wasn't much for antique but the damned thing was too comfortable to leave behind for some sex-deprived CEO-slash-deviants to lie their sweat ridden body on.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Tim growled as she got on stage, swinging one boot up and pulling the rest of her body and lumbered to where Lisa stood, dropping to her knees and pulling out to view the knife she'd been using for the lemons on her table. "It's fucking simple," she hissed before grabbing the edges of Lisa's skirt.

A loud ripping noise resounded over the music but it was completely covered by Tatiana's laughter and Lisa's loud gasp.

"Tim! What the hell?" Lisa cried, standing shocked as now she stood with her skirt ripped right at the middle a lot of inches past her mid-thighs.

Tim smiled and got up, waving her knife. "I'm always prepared."

"Goddamn it," Lisa growled, bending to examine her skirt. "This was the Gucci we bought five weeks ago! This isn't funny, Tim!"

"Oh, buzz off," Tim said, waving the knife as she hopped off the stage. "I'll pay for it with a better one—remember that one we saw from Armani? That would look gorgeous on you."

But apparently, there was no easy way to appease the doctor as she too jumped off the stage, landing steadily in her high heels. "That's it, I have had it!"

"What now?" Tim asked, draping herself back onto the couch.

"This is stupid, insane and goddamned pointless!" Lisa screamed, powering past Tim and heading for her purse on the bar. "I have put up with way too much in one night, Artemis, I am done, do you hear me? I'm going home!"

Tim rolled her eyes. "Lisa, come on. Stay."

"No, this is fucked up," Lisa wasn't holding back on her anger now. "This is stupid! My brother is dying, my hospital is being dominated by a crippled-man-whore, you're here driving me insane instead of helping me—goddamn this!"

Tim turned just as Lisa slipped out the doors, slamming them open with a dramatic flair that only she could pull. She sighed before getting up, tossing the knife onto the small table next to the chaise where her bottle of tequila and shot glasses sat.

"Are we…done?" Tatiana asked, standing by the stage with Scarlet, looking curious.

"No," Tim said, heading for the doors. "Wait here, we're not done yet, ladies and while you're at it, please pick me something nice to listen to while my friend dances too? Thanks!"

Practically skipping out the room, slipped out, weaving through the red and gold halls where a few patrons were passing too, and presumably heading for their own private rooms as well. Some men eyed her, but she ignored them and went with her search.

Lisa always found it easier to throw a tantrum around her and Tim was used to it. She was sure there was no way Lisa was really going to head home just for a skirt, but she couldn't be so sure. Then again, the thought of Lisa willingly getting into a cab with a torn skirt was something hard to picture—she was always the careful one.

But then again, his was New Jersey.

Tim cursed under her breath and hurried her steps, only to bump into another body. "Shit."

"I'm sorry," she looked up to see a calmer Lisa.

"Hi honey," Tim said with a smile. "Done with your little temper tantrum?"

Lisa gave her a look that said she was very far from amused.

"Come on, loosen the fuck up," Tim said, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her slightly. "You remember, don't you? Crashing Claire Tightass's birthday, dancing on the bars, setting the drinks on fire, making Frederick Morrison stand outside the maze in his underwear for your father to find…remember those? Come on, Lee, loosen up…"

"A drunk bald guy just tried to grope me," Lisa said, frowning. "Because he thought I was one of the 'role-players', you know, slutty secretary number five?"

Tim swallowed her laughter until her cheeks pinked and Lisa, to her surprise, cracked a small smile, "You can laugh."

A full cackle escaped her lips, attracting the attention of some passing patrons and passing women. Lisa stood there, in her torn skirt, waiting for her to finish.

"I knew," Tim choked out through her giggles. "I knew, even back when we were kids, when I first saw you, you were worth it." She laughed louder. "And this proved me right…Oh god, Lee-la, this shit only ever happens to you…"

"I am glad you find my humiliation funny," Lisa said dryly. "Some friend you are…"

Tim giggled and pulled her back down the hall, back to their room. "Let's escape your new boy-toy for now, eh? What did I tell you? Always leave them wanting more. Now…" Tim choked on a laugh. "Tell me, my little hooker, where exactly did old bare-head land?"

Lisa scowled, "My ass." She sighed. "I really don't get people's obsession with my butt. I don't get it—you and House are always talking about it, people stare…ugh. It's stupid. It's just flesh and fat—"

Tim scowled, "Yes, honey, I know you are very smart, but please, keep the details to yourself. I never cared for the word 'fat' when it comes to body parts…"

"Are you going eating disorder on me?" Lisa asked just as they reached the doors.

"No," Tim spat, frowning. "If I was, do you think I'd be downing shots of tequila? I heard those stuff have serious calories on them…"

Lisa laughed, "Really? Then I need a drink."

The two women on stage stood waiting and Tatiana smiled at the return of her student. "You're back! Should we continue?"

Lisa headed for Tim's little perch and grabbed the bottle, putting it to her lips and chugging a large sip easily before setting the bottle down, the contents considerably lesser than before she'd gotten to it. It wasn't a secret that Lisa, tiny Lisa, could drink a sailor under the table any day.

In a very unladylike way, the woman with the ripped skirt wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, "You bet your sweet as we should."

Tim plopped herself back on the couch, giddy once more now that her plan was back on track. Lisa stood, a little more intoxicated now, listening to Scarlet's instructions and she easily slid her leg around the pole, her thigh showing itself as it peeked from under the torn edges of the split in her skirt, showing off her expensive garters.

Tim sat back, "Very fucking hot." She smiled. "I love America."

Calling for another bottle, this time scotch, Tim watched the show in front of her, being every inch the pervert she cast herself as, watching as her best friend-slash-sister, take points from the two strippers. She motioned for the waitress to put the bottle of expensive scotch enticingly close to where the three women stood, knowing one of them would not be able to resist.

She didn't give a damn about the lessons.

It was the outcome Tim wanted to see.

-o0o-

"So, are you married?" Svetlana asked, eyeing the ring around the doctor's finger.

"Uh, yes," Taub said, smiling slightly as he clutched his beer. She was sitting impossibly close to him, making him feel a little uncomfortable. "We've been married for a long time."

"Oh," she smiled, putting her arm around his shoulder. "You're just here because of Neil?"

Taub nodded, "Yeah, we went to high school together."

Svetlana chuckled, "He likes bringing people here, mostly high school friends."

Taub nodded, "Good then…uh, do you always, uh, do you…"

She laughed, "Depends when I'm here or not, otherwise, Neil gets the other girls."

"Oh," Taub nodded.

"So, you're a doctor?" she asked.

"Yes, plastic surgeon," he said, nodding slightly as he took a sip of his beer. "I work at PPTH."

She nodded slightly, "Ah, I know someone from there…"

"Really? Anyone I know?" this could be interesting.

"Nobody, just a nurse," she shrugged. "So is your wife okay with you being here with Neil?"

He shrugged, "Probably not, but I'm just here for the drinks."

"Hey, Chris," Neil called, getting up with a blonde wrapped in one arm. "We're heading to the Champagne Suite. You're coming?"

Taub drained his beer, "Of course."

"Very cool," Neil clapped his hands, motioning for the other guys to come with him. "Jon!" he called an Italian looking man sitting at the bar. "We're taking the Suite now."

The Italian nodded, "Go ahead, Mr. Zane. Everything's ready, as always…"

"As always?" Taub echoed. "How often are you here?"

Neil shrugged, "When work gets under my skin. They know me."

The doctor nodded and followed the entourage as they headed down a red and gold hall. Taub marveled at the elegance of the place, despite the business it was promoting. Of course, it wasn't a brothel or a bordello, but selling skin on pay-per-view was still part of the shady business. Then again, he would be a hypocrite since he had Svetlana hanging on to his arm.

She was taller than him, but he didn't mind. She was hot anyway and she seemed good for conversations. He wasn't planning on making the same mistakes tonight or ever again, as much as possible.

"So where are we?" Taub asked carefully, looking at the closed doors.

"We're at the…" Svetlana looked around. "Private rooms. Some people like private shows. We're known for our privacy. Over there," she motioned to a pair of double doors. "Is the Louis Suite, I think Neil tried to grab it, but Jon said another patron already reserved it for the night. It's our best room. It's really quite beautiful."

Taub nodded, "So what is the Champagne Suite?"

Svetlana smiled, "Basically, a room full of champagne, expensive ones, with over-priced furniture and an excellent stage. We're putting on a show for you…"

Taub smiled. "Cool."

-o0o-

"Oh my god, I can't believe I did that!"

Tim watched, curious now and wondered if getting Lisa that bottle of scotch was a good idea seeing as the good doctor was now doing a series of spins around the pole and actually dirty dancing with the two other women.

Her hair was a mess, skirt was just a little more ripped, revealing her garter on her left thigh, she was laughing at nothing and was severely out of it. Basically, the good doctor was wasted.

"So I do this…" Lisa said, holding on to the pole with both hands and slowly sliding down, looking over her shoulder at Scarlet who was watching her with her head cocked to the side. Lisa let her butt jut out as she slid lower, arching her back as she went.

"She's pretty hot," Tatiana mused, sitting on the chaise, watching as well. "And she's fucked up drunk, but she hasn't fallen yet. What does she do for a living?"

"She's a doctor," Tim snorted. "A damned good one with a tightass job schedule. This is the first time she's acted like that in years."

Tatiana giggled, "And to think she was so pissed off…"

"She usually is when I push her into things," Tim shrugged. "But she has fun so it's good."

They both watched as Lisa, looking at Scarlet with eyes full of lust, slowly slid her body back up then turned, leaning on the pole, hands above her head, gripping it. She bit her bottom lip, eyes still on her current teacher, and let her left hand trail down into her hair to her shoulder then to her breast. Scarlet smiled slightly as she swung her leg back, hooking it around the pole then let her hand travel down lower and lower until it reached her exposed thigh.

"How am I doing?" Lisa asked in a slight slur that actually added a more throaty lilt to her voice, making her sound even more seductive than she was trying to be.

"Perfect," Scarlet said. "You're a fast learner."

Lisa smiled, "Thanks."

"You wanna take a break?" Scarlet asked, motioning to Tim and Tatiana.

"How come she doesn't dance?" Lisa asked, still very much wrapped around the pole, hand still on her exposed thigh, idly playing with the edge of her garter.

"Cause I am hot, darling," Tim said from her place. "And this is just for you, for all those donors you're trying to reel in. A trip here and a private show should have them on their knees."

Lisa laughed, a full, boisterous, bordering on obnoxious laughter as she untangled herself from the pole, her shirt a little more unbuttoned, looking very much a sex kitten.

"Come on, Lolita," Tim said, patting the seat next to her.

The inebriated doctor plopped herself down on the chaise, leaning her back on the other end and tossing her sleek legs onto Tim's laugh, giggling to herself. "If I was gay, I'd go for Scarlet."

Tim glanced at the redhead who lounged by the bar, sipping her drink while watching Lisa over the rim of her glass. "Hm, with all the eye sex going on, I'd say your eyes have turned seriously gay now."

"Can I help it if she's hot?" Lisa said brattily. "Besides, you signed me up and you had that bottle delivered to me…"

"I made you dance, but I didn't shove the drink down your throat," Tim pointed out. It was always interesting how many moods Lisa presented when she was drunk. At times, she was affectionate, others, she was chatty, sometimes honest and other times just plain bitchy.

Tim always marveled and bitched about how even when drunk off her ass, the woman could still hold an argument, however slurred by her thickening foamed up tongue from the alcohol.

"Scarlet was hot," Lisa said again with a grin. "I love her hair."

"Yes, I know," Tim nodded then touched her raven black hair. "You think I should go back to red?"

Lisa smiled and bent forward, grabbing a lock of her hair, "Yes, you look great in red—it would bring out your eyes. I like your eyes."

"You like a lot of things," Tim said, grabbing her hand away from her hair and placing it on the owner's lap. Seems affectionate Lisa was willing to come out too.

"I like Greg's eyes too," Lisa sighed dreamily as she plopped herself back onto her end of the lounge. "Did you see how blue they are? So…blue like-like…I don't know, like ice, I think only when they land on you—you don't feel cold at all and you feel the exact opposite…like liquid fire. God, his eyes are sexy. And so intense…"

Tim sighed, yes, this was it. Lisa was officially partially drunk. Chatty Lisa was always partially drunk—this was the honesty stage, which meant, her dark side—what Tim liked to call 'Tim-side'—had a big chance of emerging tonight.

The Tim-side was already showing signs of emerging—if she played her cars right.

Tim was more than happy and she was sure, tomorrow, normal-(and possibly hungover)-Lisa was not going to be anywhere near that emotion.

"He is so sexy," Lisa slurred slightly. "If he wasn't-wasn't…what's the word I'm lookin' for? Wasn't…uh, so, uh…shit. Ah! So freaking misanthropic, I'd do him…" she growled slightly. "But he's such an ass…but god, he was damned good in bed…"

Tim grinned to herself and motioned for Tatiana to start moving. She would let Lisa talk it out.

"He was really good, Tim, like…" she thought for a moment. "Like multi-orgasmic kind of good…" she squirmed in her seat. "But he's such a bastard…he's the reason I can't get laid. Stupid ass…" she whimpered. "He keeps ch-chasing men away from my bed…"

"Maybe he wants to be in your bed," Tim heard herself say.

"Who the hell cares?" Lisa whined. "If he wants to do me, then do me…don't leave me so…frustrated and lonely like that…I need to get laid."

"Hear, hear," Tim raised her empty shot glass in a mock salute. "Acceptance is the first step to actual fucking after dry spells. You're on your way, sweetie."

"But I don't want just anyone…" Lisa said in almost a whisper. "I want…he's so hot."

Tim chuckled, "Lisa, if you want the gimp, fuck him—as in literally. Pin his crippled ass to the floor and have your way with him. He's a guy with a dick, he won't say no and scream rape."

"It's Greg House," Lisa said, frowning. "If he could accuse me of rape to get out of Clinic, he would. He's…an ass."

"With a fantastic ass," Tim said, grinning to herself.

Lisa moaned. "Oh, yeah…" Then she frowned, "Hey, you are not suppose to be talking about his ass…you're not even allowed to know it's fantastic."

Tim smirked, "Ah, jealous Lisa in the House…"

"Very funny," Lisa blubbered, swaying slightly. "But really, Tim…he's sexy."

"Yes, I know," Tim sighed, this was getting old. "How about that James Wilson?"

Lisa laughed, "Jimmy's okay…Jimmy is nice. Jimmy is…like Ellie. Worries too much for his own good…he's a good guy. He's nice."

"And nice doesn't work for the good girl Lisa who wants her very own bad boy."

"Exactly," Lisa nodded thoughtfully. Then, "Tim…What time is it?"

Tim checked her watch, "A little after two…"

The drunk sat up, looking suddenly sober and appeared to be out of her fantasies. "We should…go."

Tim sat up as well. "Right…"

Where the hell was Lisa's Tim-side? She was supposed to come out. Tim felt seriously cheated.

Lisa held her head, "Oh god…my head is spinning…"

"Are you gonna throw up?" Tim asked dutifully.

"No," Lisa said, closing her eyes. "But…but I wanna go home now."

Tim nodded. "Fine, I've got my lesbian erotica for tonight anyway. Hot show, Lee-la, show what your ass, breasts and hips can do to a pole and Greg House will want you to be going his pole in a heartbeat."

Lisa's face contorted, "You're vulgar."

"And you're a semi-pro stripper!" Tim laughed. "Lisa Cuddy, MD also with a PhD in Sex Pole Kitten 101..."

"Shut up."

Tim laughed, "Come on." She looked around for the two women, "Ladies, we're calling it a night. Our little sex kitten wants her bed now."

-o0o-

At this point, Cuddy was sure she had definitely gone on the deep end now as Tim held her around the waist and the two strippers followed them out. Tim was happily chatting along with the other two while she struggled to keep her coat folded in front of her skirt, her purse hanging over her shoulder.

She was partially drunk, that she knew, but she knew she was more out of it before when she started talking about House. If it had been anyone else, she would have crawled under a rock and die, but at least, it was only Tim. Whatever thoughts and opinions she had of Greg House, Tim would keep to herself.

Tim had a knack for choosing things she should and shouldn't poke fun at.

"How are you feeling, babe?" Tim asked, jostling her slightly as she laid her head on her shoulder, feeling heavy.

"I'm drunk," she said in a whisper. "Partially…thanks to you and your bottle of scotch."

Tim chuckled, "You liked it enough to finish it alone."

"Yeah," Cuddy sighed. "I don't know what's wrong with me tonight."

"Nothing's wrong with you," Tim said, shrugging. "You just had fun. God, you know how to work a pole…so hot."

"I'm not gay and you aren't either," she muttered. "Stop hitting on me."

Tim laughed, "One night with me and you're gonna be singing a different tune, sweet cheeks."

"Dr. Cuddy?"

Cuddy's heart stopped.

Holy shit.

"Uh-oh…" Tim muttered, freezing them both on the spot.

Cuddy looked up to see House's fellow, Dr. Chris Taub, standing with a woman a few inches taller than him. She felt her face lose it's color and she could swear her heart had yet to start back up again. "D-Dr. Taub…"

She watched him take in her appearance and she hastily covered her front with her coat, her purse clattering to the floor. She was caught.

"Are-are you okay, Dr. Cuddy? You look…" he trailed off, obviously uncomfortable and he took a step away from the tall woman who was clearly with him.

"I'm fine, Dr. Taub," Cuddy said in her best administrative voice as possible. "I'm just…" she shook her head then realized it was a bad idea as her head began to spin. "Don't you have a case with Dr. House?"

"We went home for the night," he answered and even semi-drunk, Cuddy could pick up that he wasn't entirely being truthful. "I see your friend…Tim is with you. Hello."

"Hi, Bilbo," Tim said cheerfully. "Your boss and I decided to wind down for the night. This place is awesome, isn't it? Are you with some…friends?"

"No, I mean, yes," Taub stammered. "With a friend…"

"Bachelor party?" Tim teased, tightening her hold on Cuddy's waist. "Wish we knew, we could have totally crashed…"

Taub wiped a hand on his side. "Uh, not exactly…just a friend, you know…"

Cuddy sighed, "Right, uh, Dr. Taub, I…"

"Dr. Cuddy isn't feeling too well," Tim said, cutting her off. "I kind of goaded her into getting her drink on and it's kind of cold and slippery outside so…would you mind if you help us?"

"What?" Cuddy asked, suddenly standing up straight.

"Uh," Taub looked at Cuddy then Tim.

"Please?" Tim asked, smiling. "Lisa's not heavy, but I don't want to slip or anything…"

"Sure," Taub said, stammering slightly.

"Hey, Chris, what's up?" they saw a guy clap the doctor on the shoulder. "We've been looking for…whoa," he grinned when he saw Tim and Cuddy. "Hi, I'm Neil Zane of Jameson Pharmaceuticals."

Cuddy eyed the woman as he extended his hand to her and she shook it, weakly while Tim pretended to hold on to her, thereby not being able to shake hands.

"Friends of yours?" Neil asked, smiling at Taub.

"Yes, they're…"

"We were friends a long time ago," Tim said, covering. "My friend's not feeling well, I was just wondering if Chris could help us…"

Taub nodded, turning to Neil who was immediately heading to Cuddy's side. "Really? Well, I could help," he reached for Cuddy's arm.

"No, no," Cuddy said, shaking him off as politely as she could. "Chris is enough, thank you. You can go back to your party…we'll return him soon."

Neil nodded, stepping back. "Uh, okay then, uh…"

"Lily," Cuddy said, smiling slightly. "And this is my friend, Lynn. Sorry, we really have to go…I'm not feeling too well."

Neil nodded, "Okay then, I'll let Chris be the good Samaritan and I hope you feel better, Lily...so maybe I can see you again soon."

Cuddy smiled slightly as he skipped off. She eyed Taub, "Dr. Taub, come with us please…"

"Why what's going on, Lily?" Tim asked, scowling. She always hated her second name.

"Just…" Cuddy pretended to look sick.

Taub reached for her purse, "Okay, let's go Dr. Cuddy."

Saying goodbye to Scarlet and Tatiana (Taub ignored his lady for the night), all three of them headed to the parking lot. Taub held on to Cuddy's purse and Tim her to her Jaguar. Arriving at the parking lot, Cuddy cursed and decided to not bother with the coat, shooting her employee a look to say 'shut up and look away'.

The plastic surgeon obeyed noiselessly.

"Here we go," Tim grunted, helping Cuddy on the passenger seat, grabbing her purse from Taub and tossing it to her. "Home now…"

"Wait," Cuddy said, leaning forward. "Dr. Taub."

"This night never happened, I know, Dr. Cuddy," the doctor said dutifully.

"No, no," Cuddy said, waving a hand. "I mean, yes, but that's not why I wanted you here…that man, uh…Neil Zane?"

"Yes?"

"How do you know him?" Cuddy asked, leaning back in her seat as Taub stood closer to her, looking down at her. Tim circled to the other side and got in.

"We were…schoolmates in high school, he's a few years younger than me," Taub answered.

"He said he works for…Jameson Pharmaceuticals?" Cuddy inquired.

"Yes, CEO as a matter of fact," Taub informed her. "Listen Dr. Cuddy, what I do in my spare time is none—"

"Yes, I know," Cuddy said, bending down to reach for her phone. "But you might want this…" she tossed her phone to him. "That's Jameson's number…that guy, whoever he is…you might want to check him out."

"What?" Taub asked, curious. "How do you…we're friends, Dr. Cuddy…"

"I know," she nodded. "But I also know of your history. I'm not trying to overstep my boundaries, Dr. Taub, but I'm just telling you to be careful. Call them, ask about your friend and see."

"This is a level of paranoia I wouldn't have expected from you…"

Tim snorted, but was ignored completely.

"Call it paranoia," she said, resigned. "But it pays to be safe…I'm not asking you to do this, I'm suggesting it. House was right, everybody lies."

Taub hesitated a moment before copying the number into his phone. "Thank you, Dr. Cuddy."

"You're welcome, Dr. Taub," she managed to smile.

"And this better be the seal of this deal," Tim chirped from her seat. "You better not tell anyone, hobbit, or I am coming after you."

Taub smiled a little, "Feel better, Dr. Cuddy. Good night."

"Good night, Dr. Taub."

Tim waved and pulled out, careful not to jostle the car in the snow and drove away. Cuddy watched in the mirror as Taub stare at his phone before getting back inside the club. She sighed and closed her eyes, hoping he would listen, hoping her suspicions were wrong.

"What was that about?" Tim asked just as she was starting to drift off.

"The guy claims to be working for a big pharmaceutical company," Cuddy muttered, curling on her side slightly. "But he's wearing a hundred-fifty dollar suit and wearing cheap cologne. Think that's CEO material for you?"

Tim chuckled, "And what else? For all you know, he's just cheap."

"We do a lot of business with Jameson," Cuddy yawned. "I've never heard of his name. Plus, he looked like a schmuck."

She wiped his smug smile from her mind and the feel of his hands when he tried to help her.

"Oh, nasty Lisa," Tim teased. "How do you know that hobbit wasn't faking you out?"

"He was a big deal plastic surgeon until his personal life crumbled," Cuddy said, feeling the cobwebs taking over her head. "His salary now isn't half of what he was earning…his personal life, his lifestyle has to be suffering. You'd expect him to try and find a way to improve that…"

"Hm," Tim hummed. "Aren't you being a little bit cynical?"

Cuddy shrugged, "Probably, but it's better than having his life crumble again."

"Shit," Tim said. "You are too nice."

Cuddy smiled, "No, I'm just a two faced bitch. If his life crumbles, House would be short a fellow and he might start another game and hire eighty people for one position."

Tim chuckled, "That's my girl."

Cuddy sighed and promptly fell asleep.

-o0o0o0o0o-

So I altered Taub's faker story a little. I hoped it worked out. Will he keep his silence about seeing Cuddy with her skirt torn in a strip club? We'll see. And what's gonna happen with that Neil Zane guy and what does it mean for Taub and Cuddy? We'll see.

And what's gonna happen with Cuddy wakes up? That's another. And will she catch the big bad wolf sleeping on her couch?

I'm feeling a little insane…it's all the meds they've shoved down my throat.

As always, review and hopefully make me feel better.

I heard there's gonna be a storm, there's a big chance I might lose my connection to the internet agin. Shit. This is just beautiful, huh?

I hope you guys are still reading…please? I'm that pathetic, I'm willing to beg.

Replies:

Huddy28 well, here's your answer. Taub caught them, what do you think? We've got some Tims in this chapter, I'm sorry you had to wait so long for an update—I hope you didn't go through much Tim-withdrawals. *smile*

Kakashifangrl1012 I am very happy you liked Wilson and Cuddy catching them. I liked that one too! I had to have someone with Cuddy and Wilson was the logical choice since I had him with her at the meeting. Teehee. And about the desk, I don't think she replaced her desk on the show—we saw House touching it during Painless so I'm sure she didn't. My Cuddy here is just a little bit more dramatic…hee. LOL the "oink" scene was fun to write—I was watching Paternity from S1 when I saw that Clinic patient who House talked to about "teenee, tiny baby coffins" and the baby was just too cute and House was funny AND cute when he was playing with her. Gribit, gribit, gribit...

emzypemzy hey, sweetie! It took me a long time, as always, I'll send you a message—I'll be sure to explain thoroughly (be ready for a mini rant) why I hate the world for hating me.

joraco14 I am very happy you liked the Clinic scene. I love that one too! Oink!

Shikabane-Mai You read my fic in class? Wow, if only I had that opportunity when I was in high school…coulda saved me a lot of drool moments, especially during Physics! LOL I am very much happy you like quoting Tim…I enjoy making lines for her too. I love especially the Hilson-gay quip she had, I hope I don't sound too arrogant. I am very happy you liked the kiss—I'm not into lesbians and stuff, but it seemed to fit Tim, right? Hee, congratulations for shipping Tim/Cuddy.

WeHaveACase welcome to my world of insanity! I hope you stick around for the ride! *waves*

Houselover1 thanks so much for your reviews! I am very glad you liked that chapter. I'm very sorry for the wait! It took me forever—the forces were against me! So not fair. LOL I hope you're cousin wasn't too bothered by this chapter *laughs like an idiot*

yoleah your review made me blush again! I'm really sorry for the wait. The world hates me, I think…

TopBanana Thanks, I honestly thought it wasn't gonna be good! Glad you liked it…and I know this is going to sound dumb, but… "Sólveig"? Is that a name cause it sounds really cool! Yeah, I'm kind of an idiot…pfft! Hee.

Tawnyleaf Thanks for the review! I'm so glad you're in for the ride…so safe to say you won't mind if it takes a while to get to Huddy? Mind you, I swear it will—especially after this week's ep, Under My Skin…it's not very hard to picture now! *wink wink*

Jaded27 I'm very happy you liked the Wilson/Cuddy/House scene…I must confess, I am a big supporter of the OT3—they belong together, all three of them! (Not sexual, okay? If I'm gonna allow myself to watch some smut, it's gotta be Huddy. I love OT3's friendship best.)

Huddy sex: HOLYSHIT. So hot. I am a full-fledged pervert now. Agh!

So that's it, I hope you guys don't hate me. Seriously, it killed me not to be able to update (or read!) so I hope you guys will forgive me.

Please, review!

And here's a ticker: The Sweet Escape, means a lot to everyone in this chapter—see how it fits my players? Maybe not, it's more a coincidence anyway mixed with my insanity.

The Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani feat. Akon