Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.

A.N.: This it set sometime during Season 4 (a few months after 'Games'). I don't have a beta, so I'm very sorry if there are a lot of mistakes. So, enough said:

On with the story!

WALKING SPANISH

"You're fired." House grumbled, leaning back in his chair, folding his hands on top of his chest and tipping his index fingers against one another in front of his mouth while scanning the woman ahead of him with his scrutinizing gaze.

"What?" Thirteen who had planted herself in front of his desk looked at her boss in utter disbelief.

"You're fired." he echoed his former statement gruffly. "Do you want me to spell it out for you?"

"But you can't just…"

"I can. I just did."

"Why? That's not fair!"

"Suck it up, Princess. Life is not fair ... get used to it."

The young internist took a few seconds to digest the just heard and tried hardly to come up with a reason why the older doctor could possibly want to give her the pink slip.

"Is it because …"

"Yes, damn right." he cut her off raising his voice, angrily banging his open palms on his desk, the sudden noise causing her to cringe slightly. "You disobeyed my orders, acted without my permission and treated the patient behind my back."

Not one to be outdone, Thirteen matched her tone of voice with his and decided to defend her doing.

"I did what I had to do to save the man's life."

"You almost killed the guy."

"Because he was allergic to the treatment not because it was the wrong diagnosis."

"I don't care." House yelled getting more indignant by the minute. "You can't do as you please just because you're easy on the eyes. It's my call what gets to be done. Foreman and Taub are more than enough already. I don't need another one undermining my authority."

"But you were wrong."

"Hitler was wrong. The fat guy who screwed up the million-dollar-question last week was wrong. Roy was wrong when he confused a full-grown carnivore with a pussycat. Hell, even God was wrong thinking Satan was just a nice guy with a pronounced egotism. But me? I may not always be right - but I'm never wrong."

Although she should have been used to his impudent arrogance by now, this self-opinionated statement caused her to narrow her eyes at him in an angry gesture.

"You're an ass."

"Well, life is all about ass, isn't it?" he countered, her former declaration not fazing him in the least. "Everyone's either covering it, laughing it off, kicking it, trying to get a piece of it or simply just being one. I would prefer the second last but let's be honest: At my age getting lucky is finding my car in the parking lot."

"So, that's it?" she asked not further paying attention to his nonsense and trying to lead the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"Yup." he retorted, the 'p' making a plopping sound. "Put the big girl panties on and deal with it."

"Go to hell!"

"Uh," he countered scrunching up his nose. "… better not. I've got a restraining order."

Her eyes bore angrily into his one last time before she stormed out of his office, slamming the door on her way out and leaving a slightly smirking House behind.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

When he leisurely limped out of the elevator in the direction of his office the following day, Gregory House was greeted by the outraged voice of his 'favorite' employer echoing down the hallway.

"House!"

Judging by the determined look on her face she had a bone to pick with him. Not in the mood for another one of her tirades, he quickly disappeared around the next corner, desperately hoping that she hadn't noticed.

But no such luck. He had barely been able to walk a few steps when he heard the tell-tale clicking sound of her heels.

"House!" she called again but this time it sounded a lot closer.

Finally realizing that he had been caught, he stopped dead in his tracks, silently cursing himself for his obviously too sluggish attempt to escape the wrath of Lisa Cuddy.

Hearing the footsteps get closer and closer he opted to turn around, giving her his most languid look and raising his eyebrows in anticipation of what was to come.

"What the hell did you do?" she snapped once she came to a stop in front of him.

"Who? Me?" he asked trying his best to look innocent.

"Why did you fire Thirteen?"

"She was wearing blue on 'Yellow Friday'."

"House!" Cuddy snapped in a warning tone, not in the mood to put up with his shit. She put her hands on her hips, impatiently waiting for his reply.

"Does it matter?" House asked not really keen to discuss that matter.

Cuddy answered the question with a look you would give an eight-year-old you were about to ground.

"The screw up fairy paid her another visit." he stated by way of explanation.

Knowing House for a very long time, she knew that this was the best clarification she would get from him. Admitting defeat, she let out a deep sigh.

"I told you there has to be a woman in your team. You need a little estrogen amongst all this piled up testosterone. Someone who is able to prevent you guys from breaking each others skull." Cuddy declared matter-of-factly, adding in a flirtatious tone: "And aside from that I very well know that you love to have someone you can fluster with your silly little innuendos."

House looked at her for a few seconds, pondering if she may have a point.

"You sound reasonable…" he concluded finally. "Time to put up my medication."

No sooner said than done, he popped two Vicodin into his mouth and dry-swallowed them quickly, earning him a significant look from the Dean of Medicine.

"Get Amber back for all I care. Just…find someone."

"Okay." he agreed without further ado, turned his back on her and restarted on his way to his office.

"And House?!" she cat-called at his retreating form causing him to stop and glance at her over his shoulder. "Get your butt down to the clinic."

Smirking, he continued to hobble down the hallway thinking about his order to hire a new female doctor for his team. He really had no desire to start another selection procedure and the thought of rehiring the 'Cutthroat Bitch' gave him the creeps. No, he didn't want any of that. Deep inside of him he knew exactly what he'd like best. There was only one woman he could continuously stand working with but he was also aware of the fact that his chances to get her back were slim to none.

'Oh, to the heck with it!' he thought. 'No guts, no glory.'

Determined not to waste any time, he quickly limped into his office, threw his backpack on his desk, darted out of the room in record time for a guy with a cane and set out for the hospital's emergency room.