A Prank Too Far

SMUT, coz dream sex is fun if nothing else and I get to be totally illogical (more than usual at least) as I type away.

Okay, I’m going to enable anonymous review methinkies, but y’all have to promise to be pleasant!

Uummm…jam, that’s all I can think of for the moment.

Read and review.

Chapter 4: Dreaming Hard

His mouth was hard on hers. Harder than she had expected. His lips devoured hers and his tongue lunged into her mouth in a daring possession that she couldn’t remember anyone even attempting with her. The kiss was a challenge to her, demanding her to push him away, to deny the attraction that flared between them like a tongue of flame at the least provocation.

Her hands rose and gripped his shoulders as his arm wrapped around her waist and dragged her hard against the solid wall of his chest. She made a muffled whimpering sound as pleasure tingled along her skin at the contact that crushed her sensitive breasts against him. She thought of pushing him away and her fingers flexed on his hard frame, but instead she found herself pulling him closer instead of putting distance between them.

She loved this, the hard feel of a man against her smaller softer body. She revelled in the purely female sensation as he pushed her back with his slightly uneven gait. Something hard hit the back of her legs and she reached back with one hand to find smooth polished wood under her fingers. The realisation that he was pushing her back onto her desk didn’t seem to faze her as it normally would. He growled a loud rumble in her ear as his arm swept out and effectively cleared her desk in one short movement.

She opened her eyes to see his clothes melt away to reveal long smooth lines and tanned skin that had her biting her lip to stop the groan of anticipation moaning out into the room. She panted softly as he smirked down at her. Her hands trembled slightly as she splayed them against his chest feeling hot skin. He felt almost inhumanly warm against her and she didn’t mind in the slightest. His tongue lapped at her shoulder and her fingers closed on the fine silver chain that hung around his neck a single teardrop shaped pendant of aquamarine hung from it. She didn’t recall him wearing any kind of jewellery before but it was cool in her hand as he swept a glowing golden trail over her skin with his tongue.

Suddenly, her clothes were gone too and he laid her down against the table, the hard wood cold against her naked back and the hot firmness of his skin against her front had her shivering in anticipation. Her legs slid up and around his hips, her pelvis a cradle for him as his hot hard cock slid against her wet folds.

She moaned and bit at his shoulder, her nails scraped down his back in a roughness that she had never allowed herself with a real man. She couldn’t lose control, especially not with the real House, but this was okay. It was alright to scream for this House.

His hands gripped her hips. Long fingered dexterous hands that held her gently but firmly. Their strength evident even as he angled her hips to his with whisper soft caresses of his fingers. “You ready for me?”

His voice was harsh in her ear. Rough with him trying to hold back the heave of air in his lungs and the building storm of lust in his chest. his heart hammered under her fingers as she trailed them down over his chest and stomach to wrap around the hard evidence of his readiness for her. Giddy arousal swirled through her head like too much wine and she chuckled as her lips caressed his neck, her tongue sliding over the tendons and leading her up to his ear, which she bit softly. “Very ready. Take me now.” She ordered and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her legs tightened over his as he bent her back across the desk, it softened under her back and it was suddenly her bed. She didn’t question the dream’s logic, so long as she was satisfied.

His tongue was molten as it stroked over her skin, steam clouded the air between them and she arched back on a harsh cry. Her hair splaying out like ink in water over the pillows as she gasped. His teeth seemed cold as they scraped icy trails over her skin, he gripped her arms with a manacle like strength to keep her still. The sheets twisted around her limbs and held her down. She pushed all of her strength against them and she was just bound tighter, they swirled over her body and forced him back and away from her with a sharp cry of denial from his throat at the separation.

All at once she was a lone in the bed.

Cuddy awoke with a start and heaved herself up into a sitting position. She wriggled until she was free of the tangle of bed sheets tight around her sweat slicked body. She shoved a dark fall of hair out of her eyes with a short angry movement. It took her a moment to come back to herself and she couldn’t quite ignore the pang of disappointment she felt upon realising that she was in her own bed by herself. It wasn’t often that it bothered her, her solitary sleeping arrangements, but today it irked her somewhat.

Her chest rose and fell sharply beneath her nightshirt and she swallowed hard past the dry feeling in her mouth. Since when did she have graphic erotic dreams about Gregory damn House? Since when did she have erotic dreams period?

Of course there was that time after seeing Brad Pitt in Troy…but still!

She had never even thought about House naked…though her imagination had certainly painted an intriguing picture there was certainly no reason to continue thinking about it.

Heat pulsed under her skin and hammered through her veins, her body begged to differ. It was very much intrigued about what exactly House looked like naked and could he really do that twirling sucking thing with his tongue. Cuddy scowled, she was not thinking about it!

She ached with unfulfilled desire as she grimaced her way out of bed and padded through to her bathroom. She looked herself in the mirror, taking in the flush high on her cheeks, the slightly glassy look of her eyes and the way that her body tightened in readiness every time her thoughts swung back to him.

No! She shook her head sharply in denial. She wasn’t thinking about the real House, she was thinking about some figment of her overheated imagination. The way she wanted him to be. Wait, she didn’t want him to be any particular way. That would imply some kind of personal feeling on her part. It was just random. She assured herself. Nothing to get tied in a knot about. She splashed water up onto her face and shimmied out of her nightgown. She tied her hair back haphazardly and shoved it into a ponytail. She winced at the tug in her muscles as she pulled on her sweats and went back through to her bedroom to rummage for her i-pod.

She was just…stressed. That was it, she was stressed and she hadn’t been out on her daily run yesterday because of House and that excess energy plus the usual exasperations that House caused resulted in one very hot but completely irrelevant dream. Cuddy smirked to herself as she secured the armband onto her bicep, ignoring the echoing sensation of his fingers clasping her there. It was really perfectly rational; excess energy and overwork.

Nothing to do with Gregory House.

She slammed the door behind her and ignored the simmering of lust singing through her body like vibrations through a struck bell. Stretching quickly she began her run as quickly as possible wanting to be rid of these troubling dreams.

Nothing to do with Greg House.

Nope. Nothing at all.


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Cuddy stormed through the red leaved doors of Princeton-Plainsboro and ignored anyone and everyone, her attention focused solely on trying to find that damn paper that had been there a moment earlier but had apparently taken it upon itself to jaunt off to parts unknown. Irritation lashed her and was evident with every click of her heel and sway of her hips as she stalked towards her office. Woe betide anyone that messed with her today, she would probably eat them alive.

Her run, twice as long as usual, had done nothing to abate her arousal and, instead, seemed to have made it worse. It was a sharp ache low in her belly, a fire in her head and a haze over everything she looked at. Her hands shook as she rummaged angrily though her bag. It was colouring everything she was doing and she was none too pleased at the disruption.

“Uum, Dr Cuddy?”

“What?!” Cuddy rounded on the unfortunate someone with a snarl and then abruptly got a hold of herself. She cleared her throat and straightened, smoothing a hand down the front of her jacket and tossing the flyaway curl out of her face, she focused on the tall blonde resident in front of her. She was athletically built with a nervous way about her and thick horn rimmed glasses perched on her Nordic profile. “Can I help you?” Cuddy tried again with a marginally more human tone. She even attempted a smile, managing to bare her teeth, but she dropped it quickly when the resident took a hesitant step away from her.

“I-I was headed to ra-radiology and I seem to have gotten turned around somewhere.” The resident practically cowered before Cuddy and Cuddy couldn’t find it within herself to care.

Cuddy thrust her arm out and pointed down the corridor. “That way.” She said shortly and moved to leave.

“Sorry, it’s just that yours was the only name I knew.” The resident managed not to stammer this time and Cuddy immediately felt like an absolute bitch.

“It’s just down the hall and the first door on the left, okay? Don’t be afraid to ask anyone for help, they’re not going to bite you.” Cuddy congratulated herself on the watery smile that she managed to glean from the resident and then added as an afterthought. “Except for Dr House, tall, thin and walks with a cane, he will always lie to you.”

Cuddy turned to leave again but she was stopped short when the resident grabbed her hand in a surprising grip. She beamed at Cuddy as she squeezed her hand. “Thankyousomuch!” She gibbered before hurrying down the hallway. Cuddy frowned after her, but shook her head and continued on her way. She made a mental note to check where they were recruiting residents from these days but pushed any further thought from her mind.

She didn’t register the cast to the hip that the resident happened to be wearing.

In fact, Cuddy was so focused on getting to her office and finding that bleeding paper that she didn’t notice the whispers and stares from everyone in the employ of the hospital (and a few patients) that she left in her wake. They all gaped quietly after her and then immediately resumed their discussions of the latest and hottest gossip as soon as they were sure that she wasn’t within earshot. The murmur of voices and the stench of fresh rumour meat to chew over was completely lost on the Dean as she didn’t once lift her head or instigate a greeting on her way to her office. She finally lost all patience with her briefcase as she walked into her assistant’s workspace. She stalked to her latest PA’s desk and slammed the leather bag down on top of it.

Agnes, the aged woman who the agency had seen fit to send this time, jumped at the clatter of Italian leather thumping down on top of her keyboard and narrowly missing her fingers. She looked up from under her stylishly cut white hair at the young powerhouse that was her boss and arched a single silver brow. “Something amiss, Dr Cuddy?”

Agnes had a fair idea what exactly was amiss, but decided to test the waters by pretending ignorance.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. The minutes for yesterday’s board meeting seem to have just up and disappeared and I can’t find them anywhere. I was sure that I…” Cuddy trailed off as Agnes lifted a sheaf of stapled together pages in a folder marked ‘Board Meeting Minutes’ and handed it wordlessly across the desk to Cuddy.

“Well, as long as they’re here.” Cuddy said, trying to sound a little more mollified than she actually was. She had the sudden and completely irrational urge to beat someone over the head with this folder and she shoved it down and out of the way before she gave into the urge to act upon it. She stilled as her eyes lit on something on the corner of Agnes’ desk. She frowned and whipped it out to peruse it. Her mouth fell open as her eyes widened. She took in the leaflet at a glance and then stared at it for a few more moments, trying to fully comprehend what she was looking at.

It was a homemade paper depicting a love-heart shaped picture of herself and House, obviously taken last night in her office after hours. It showed House kneeling in front of her, grasping her left hand in his and toting a ring in his free hand. She was smirking down at him in a way that could have been taken as affectionate and there was definitely a grin on his lips. Thankfully, the dim lighting of her office at the time had managed to conceal the disintegration of her shirt. Glitter sparkled over the paper and scrawled out bright shining letters; ‘CONGRATULATIONS! Drs House and Cuddy to marry!’

Cuddy swallowed past the sudden rage that seemed to be choking her. Her knuckles whitened on the paper as her already short fuse ignited in a sparking inferno of temper. Her hand shook and Agnes wheeled her chair a few inches further away from Cuddy, she could practically smell the ozone in the air as Cuddy’s mood barometer flipped from ‘barely pleasant’ to ‘stormy weather’.

“That. Rat. BASTARD!” Cuddy gritted out from between clenched teeth. She spun on one ludicrously expensive heel and prowled straight out of her office, headed for diagnostics and House. Or, more accurately, his blood.

Agnes watched the younger livid woman and decided not to inform her boss that the leaflets had been papered over the car park and on every hospital bulletin board, as well as every head of department.

Cuddy snarled something at the inhabitants of an elevator and they all hurriedly vacated the box to make room for her.

Agnes decided after lunch might be alright.


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In contrast to Cuddy, House’s morning had gone rather pleasantly, he thought. He had successfully arrived later than usual slipping under the boss’s radar and avoiding clinic nicely. He had, of course, had to put up with the smirks and whispers that had followed in his wake. A few well placed glares had taken care of the majority of it. Seriously though, people needed to get over the cellophane incident.

He thought he was the only one that had nothing better to do, but apparently everyone was taking the day off to point and laugh.

He looked up as Tawny chose that moment to swing languidly in through the doors. She smirked at him and took a seat opposite him. She tilted her head and her grin widened slightly. “Well, well, Dr House, who would have thought you had it in you?”

House blinked, momentarily at a loss. “Lot’s of people, and all of them women.” He said automatically and narrowed his eyes at her, not quite sure was going on. “Okay, I give, who exactly is thinking what?”

Tawny tilted her head and her eyes dropped to his hand a moment behind the yellow lenses of her glasses. She cleared her throat and reached into her pocket, retrieving a folded piece of bright pink paper. “See for yourself.” Her accent was a liquid instruction as she flipped tiger coloured hair out of her eyes and glanced out the window.

House glared down at the paper but was disrupted from opening it as the door crashed open and an extremely irate Cuddy stormed into his office. “This is too far, House! Even for you!” She snapped and thrust a sheet of paper that was roughly the same shade as the one he was already holding, under his nose. He leant back and took it from her slightly trembling hand and opened it with a curious tilt to his brow. Curious became outright shock when he took in the contents of the leaflet. He looked up at Cuddy in horror as she planted her hands on her hips and glared down at him.

“What the fuck is this?” He demanded of her and stood to tower over her. She didn’t back down.

“It would seem to be a marriage proposal.” Tawny noted calmly and Cuddy whirled, noticing the other woman for the first time.

“Wait, the drunk’s back for visits?” Cuddy demanded and turned back to House, fairly content to tear him a new one, no matter how irrational or how not his fault the reasoning happened to be.

“Meet my new surgeon; Dr Tawny McQueen.” House supplied, his tone and gesture towards Tawny dripping sarcasm. “Saves me having to wheedle your guys into action if I’ve already got one on payroll.” He grinned tightly down at her and then held up the paper again. “I say again; what the fuck?”

“Possibly the work of the…practical joker?” Tawny interjected smoothly, ignoring Cuddy’s barb and focusing instead on finding the correct words in English. She looked up at Cuddy with a wry twist to her full lips. “Don’t take my alcohol addled word for it though.”

Cuddy practically growled. “Well, whoever thought it up is delusional, I would never marry you.” She emphasised her point by thumping House in the chest with her finger, ignoring how firm his body felt under that brief touch. She really didn’t need any more fuel for her already overactive imagination where he was concerned.

“Hey,” House protested, “I’ll have you know I’m quite the catch.”

“Compared too…?” Cuddy let the question trail off as if she could think of nothing she would prefer House over. She attempted to ignore the way he smelled so good, the way her temperature skyrocketed and the way she wanted to suddenly kiss him senseless. She shifted from foot to foot in an uncharacteristic show of nerves and rubbed the back of her neck once before forcing herself to drop her arm. She cleared her throat. Perhaps she was having an allergic reaction.

Tawny smirked and sat back to watch the battle of wits. She had a feeling it might be quite amusing to work under these two. House just sat there a moment, taking Cuddy in. sure, she had always given as good as she’d got, but there was something off about her today. It didn’t take a genius to see that she was agitated, more than the situation really warranted, her colour was hectic, there was a sheen of sweat on her skin and a glassy look to her eyes. He wondered idly if she was perhaps coming down with something. It wouldn’t be the first time she had worked through something that would have had someone else flat on their back hours ago.

“If this proposal is a surprise to you, Dr Cuddy, why are you wearing an engagement ring?” Tawny asked suddenly, one long finger flickering to Cuddy’s left hand.

Cuddy followed the look a hot denial already on her lips. “I am not wearing an…that’s not mine.” She asserted and splayed her fingers to frown down at the ring. She gripped it in a determined way and yanked. Hard. A flicker of panic passed over her features as the ring refused to move. “Goddamnit, it’s stuck!” She grimaced as she twisted more fiercely and only succeeded in pulling painfully at her finger.

“How convenient, let me see.” House reached out and snagged her hand between his and examined the finger in question. There was a thin smear of glue on her finger under the white gold of the ring’s edging. It was definitely expensive, there was a large sapphire surrounded by diamonds, the silversmith had worked the metal in such a way so that the jewels and gold twined to look like a flowering plant. The sapphire had been shaped to look like a tiny perfect blue rose and the surrounding diamonds were un-opened buds.
“Well, it’s very pretty, but it’s definitely stuck to you. How dim do you have to be to get a ring glued to your finger, why did you have it on anyway?”

Cuddy glared at him as she snatched away her hand and put a hasty distance between them. “I told you, it’s not mine. I don’t know how it got there.”

“So you expect him to believe that someone walked up to you and glued a rock of that value to your finger without your knowledge?” Tawny smirked and her disbelief was evident as she moved so as to get a better look at the ring from her vantage point on the other side of the table.

Cuddy glared at the surgeon, she was this close to tossing the drunken wench out on her ass. As mad as she was at that moment, she felt she would be able to do it herself. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to be shackled to him in any way. I only work with the wretch and he’s giving me an ulcer.”

House was prevented from defending himself against that particular insult as the phone rang insistently on his desk. He scowled at the unwelcome interruption and snatched up the handset. “What?” He demanded roughly and then thrust the phone towards Cuddy. “For you.”

Cuddy was forced to step closer to him to take the handset. She ignored the way she wanted two wriggle like a happy puppy at being this close to his body. She shifted uncomfortably as she listened to Agnes on the other end of the line. She scowled up at House when he refused to move and give her more space. She even considered shoving him away, but that would involve tactile contact between them.

“Dr Cuddy, I know you’re not exactly in the mood for this right now, but Mr Burndyke is here and he’s demanding to speak to you. He’s saying something about the board review and the minutes from the meetings.” Agnes half whispered down the line giving Cuddy the impression that the repulsive Mr Burndyke was standing not too far off.

Just the thought of the small, round, hair plugged monstrosity gave her a shudder and Cuddy’s gaze fixed on House’s chest as she thought about what to do. Quickly becoming entranced with the motion of House’s breathing, Cuddy’s eyes glazed as she suddenly realised she had no idea what Agnes was saying and she really wanted to stroke House.

Stroke House?!

Cuddy jerked at the thought and the phone nearly flew from her grasp. She recovered quickly and straightened, focusing her attention more firmly on the conversation in her ear instead of wondering exactly how much of House was filling out those jeans…surely that wasn’t a sock? Cuddy cleared her throat suddenly and refused to blush more than she already was. “I’ll be right there, Agnes. Just…just stall him until I get there.” Cuddy slammed the phone back into its cradle and made an effort to breathe through her mouth so she could better ignore the delicious scent that had become Gregory House.

She pointed an accusing finger in his face. “I’ll deal with you later.” She turned and sashayed from the office.

Tawny twisted to watch the smaller woman go and arched a brow. They certainly did things differently over here. She turned back to House and arched a brow without conscious thought.

House, who had been brooding over Cuddy’s strange behaviour, lanced Tawny with a glare. “What?”

“Is she always like that?”

“Like what?” House was unsure if Tawny meant, was the dean always pissed at him or was she always so easily agitated.

“Like she wants to shove you down on the desk and have her wicked way with you, no matter that there’s someone else in the room?” Tawny asked with her usual lack of aplomb.

“She’s not sick then?” House almost mused to himself as he rubbed at his jaw, still staring at the doors that Cuddy had disappeared through a few moments ago.

“Well, my second guess was Malaria, but they have shots for everything these days.” Tawny shrugged casually.

“Hmm, okay, Diagnostics 101; find out if the patient is actually sick.” House lurched to his feet and hobbled to the door. He looked back at Tawny. “You coming?”

Tawny rose smoothly and stalked after House with her usual predatory gait. “Depends on where we are going.”

“We’re going investigating.” House settled on the suitable non-answer as he limped along the corridor and headed for the elevators.

“Yes, but what does that involve?”

“Industrious scrutiny of her natural habitat.” House hedged.

“You want to break into her office, don’t you?” Tawny put it to him as she crossed her arms over her chest.

House flashed her a grin, pleased that she had picked up so quickly. “Good idea, let’s do that. If anyone asks it was your idea.” He smirked and jabbed the button for the ground floor again with his cane.

Tawny just smirked and shook her head.


TBC…