This takes place sorta AU: After season 7, but House isn't in prison. Yeah….
Disclaimer: Don't own House.

Thirteen looked down at her pager and groaned. What did House want with her? She made her way down the hallway and took a right, walking past the differential room and into his office without bothering to knock.

"What do you want?" She demanded, getting to the point immediately. House was sitting at his desk, a colorful object in his hands. On her arrival, he looked up at her innocently. Not that he was fooling anyone.

"I'm bored," he drawled, tossing his favorite ball up into the air. "So I have a proposition for you."

Koosh. Throw. Koosh. Throw. Koosh. Throw. Koo-

The strangely irritating koosh finally getting to her, Thirteen snatched the ball out of his hands. "What possessed you to think I might actually consider anything you proposed?" She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and settled for folding her arms defiantly across her chest, clutching the toy lightly in her right hand. "That doesn't have to do with a dying patient," she reluctantly amended. It was just after lunch. She had better things to do with her time. Like avoiding House.

House looked at her pointedly. "For one thing," He stealthily swiped the red ball back. "I'm your boss." At her incredulous glance –Really? Are you seriously going to play that card? –, he continued, "And for another, much more important reason," he emphasized. "I'm bored." His blue eyes gleamed.

"You already said that," she retorted, this time not resisting the urge to roll her eyes. If she had been working anywhere else, such a gesture would have gotten her fired. But as this was House, such a gesture simply fell under keeping one's job. "And I'm not going to resort to playing your childish games when there are lives to save and you have been shirking on your clinic duty." There was this small, nagging feeling in the back of her mind, like by just being here, she had landed in some sort of trap. But she pushed back the feeling.

"Well, for one," Throw. Koosh. "You haven't gone running out the door yet." Throw. Koosh. Throw. "So that means you're at least considering it." Koosh. "And Taub's taking care of my clinic duty for me. I always knew I hired the cheater for a good reason." Throw.

The bothersome rhythm was really starting to try Thirteen's nerves. "And it's not like we actually have a case or anything."

Koosh.

"If that's what you need, then I'm going to head to the ER to find us a case." She turned and started walking back to the door.

Throw.

"I didn't say you could leave yet, Thirty-One." Koosh. Thirteen whirled around.

"For god's sake, House!" The combination of the irksome habit and the insinuating nickname finally breaking the camel's back, she made two broad sweeps towards her seated superior. In a matter of a few seconds, her fingers were securely curled around the ball and she let out a triumphant grin before it was all too quickly lost by a resounding snap.

"I thought you didn't believe in God," his eyes were full of mirth.

A mixture of horror and confusion flooded her face. A series of clicking sounds were heard as House wrapped his hands around her wrist.

"House, what the fu-"

"Language," he chastised, wagging a finger playfully. Or as playful as the caustic physician could actually pull off. He swiped at her new jewelry, like a cat might a ball of yarn; or its prey.

"Are those handcuffs?"

House let out a cynical smile. "Well, they're not diamonds that's for sure."

The horror on her face quickly turned into anger as she finally managed to wrap her head around what just happened. "House, you cannot have one of your doctors in handcuffs."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Well why not? I think they make quite the fashion statement, don't you?" Taking advantage of her distraction, he deftly recovered his toy. "It goes so well with your eyes."

"My eyes are green House," she gritted out, holding her wrist in front of his face and silently demanding the cuff's imminent removal.

He rolled his eyes. "Matching colors are overrated, if you ask me."

"No one asked you!" The other side of the handcuffs dangled uselessly, gleaming in the office light. When it became clear that he would not acquiesce to her request, she finally demanded, "The key, House, I've got actual patients to see, and if I'm in handcuffs…" She glared at him.

"Well, it's not like you haven't sported them before." Thirteen's jaw clenched at the reminder. "And I can't."

Her eyes widened in horror. "What do you mean, you can't?"

House made a point of sighing loudly. "I mean I don't have the key." At the sight of the murderous look on his subordinates face, he held up his hands in mock fear. "I didn't say I didn't know where it was."

"Then tell me where it is," she snapped. "Before I…" She stopped, trying, rather unsuccessfully, to come up with a suitable threat.

"Well," he threw the infuriating shiny object into the air once more, his trademark smirk stretching widely across his face. All too quickly, Thirteen realized that she had indeed walked into a trap. Well played House. "Where's the fun in that?"

You probably noticed the Thirteen/? In the synopsis, eh? Well, I don't particularly ship Thirteen with anyone, so depending on who the reviewers end up voting for, I'll end the fic (if I decide to continue) with that pairing (they'll be handcuffed together & will make for lovely stuff). This chapter is unnaturally short: this is a prologue. Anyways ~ chow.