Disclaimer: I do not own House or the song When You're Mad.
A/N: So here is a little thing that I've had in the back of my mind for months and it's been bugging me so much so I had to write it down. It's a song fic to the song When You're Mad by Ne-yo. I thought it fit perfectly but you guys decide! Much love.
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"What's with you and her?"
House stopped and looked pointedly at Wilson. "Don't."
But Wilson continued, "Do you have a thing for her? The only people who can get to you–"
"No! There is not a thin line between love and hate. There is, in fact, a Great Wall of China with armed sentries posted every 20 feet between love and hate."
It's just the cutest thing.
"It fits the symptoms perfectly."
"It's certainly one possibility," said House, wiping his hands, "What about the aspergillus fungus we found under the sink?"
"What sink?" asked Cuddy picking up Alfredo's x-ray.
House dumped the tissue in the garbage. "You ought to clean your bathroom better."
Cuddy looked at him incredulously. "You broke into my house?"
House looked shocked. "No, that would be wrong. I had a key."
"You had no right to invade my privacy. There was no medical reason for that whatsoever," Cuddy snapped, "And there was certainly no moral reason for it," she added as she looked down at the x-ray in her hand.
When you get to fussing and cussing
"Oh damn. You're right. The focal consolidation makes fungal pneumonia far more likely."
"You're right I'm right. On the bright side, it has the advantage of keeping you totally responsible."
Yelling and throwing things
I just want to eat you up.
"You're not putting him on the list."
"Your powers of deduction are breathtaking."
"You take perverse pleasure in turning me down."
"It's what I live for. Once in a while, though, try to ruin my day. Ask me something I can say 'yes' to."
I mean no disrespect
"You're in denial."
House looked at her. "Right, I never had an infarction in my leg, no dead muscle, no nerve damage. Doesn't even hurt." He pressed the button for the elevator. "Actually, it kind of tickles. The chicks dig this," he said raising his cane proudly, "better than a puppy."
Cuddy looked back at him. "It's not just your leg," she said, trying to make a point, "You wanna get high! You're doing what, 80 mg a day?"
House gave her a look of utter shock. "Oh, that's way too much! Moderation is the key…unless there's pain."
"It's double what you were taking when I hired you," she said pointedly.
"'Cause you're twice as annoying."
"I can't always be here to protect you. Patients talk. Doctors talk," she said as the elevator doors opened.
"About how big your ass has gotten lately. Not me. I defend it. You got back."
When I start staring
"Judging by how it looks, he could lose his hand," said Cuddy guiltily.
"How does falling off your roof do that to a guy's fingers?" asked Wilson, puzzled.
"Could have tweaked a vertebrae in his neck," said House, licking a lollipop. "Could have pinged on the ulnar…" House stopped mid-sentence, his eyes focusing on the red stain on Cuddy's tank top, just between her breasts. He shook his head. "Sorry, trouble concentrating. That tank top really absorbs moisture." Cuddy looked down and glared at him as she pulled the sides of her sweater in front of her.
Knowing that it makes you madder
"You put him on Lupron."
"Uh-huh."
"And, you told them it was like milk."
"Yes."
"Is there any way in which that is not a lie?"
He thought for a moment. "It's creamy. But, I had three reasons."
"Good ones?"
"Well, we'll see in a minute, I'm just making them up now…He lied to me first."
"Your mother did teach you two wrongs don't make a right?"
"If he lies to me about not taking steroids, then I lie to him about not treating steroids, he's cured. Adds up for me-"
"Second reason."
"If I told him the truth, he wouldn't have taken the stuff."
"And if he told you the truth," asked Cuddy, dangerously, "what would this stuff do to him?"
House looked down. "…Severe respiratory problems."
"Third reason," she asked quickly.
"I wanted to eliminate the placebo effect."
"Excellent! You and your lawyer can write a paper," said Cuddy walking to her desk.
"Which brings me to my fourth reason."
"I thought you said there were only three," she said, sitting down.
"I thought you'd buy one of them."
"Seriously?"
Look I'm sorry
Cuddy stormed into the MRI back room. "I can't even imagine the backwards logic you used to rationalize shooting a corpse."
House turned to her. "Well if I shot a live person, there's a lot more paperwork"
"Then it won't be a problem for you to stand beside the casket at the wake and explain why a cancer patient has a bullet hole in his head."
"The man donated his body to science!" House exclaimed. "Yes, it's a tragedy! If I hadn't shot him, his body could have spent the next year letting first year med students use the car pool A."
Chase walked in. "He's set."
"Do not turn that on House!" she said dangerously.
"You're mad because I put a bullet in his head. But worse all I'm doing now is taking it out." He turned on the machine and they turn to watch.
The light flashed and the head the corpse was literally lifted off of the table. Slowly but surely, the bullet fragments were pulled out of his head and shot out of his skull, creating holes in the top of the machine. There was a loud zap and the lights in the machine went out.
Cuddy turned to House and gave him a scathing look. House looked at her and smiled weakly. "My bad."
But seeing you mad is so sexy
"You don't prescribe medicine based on guesses. At least we don't since Tuskegee and Mengele."
"You're comparing me to a Nazi? Nice."
Could it be the little wrinkle over your nose
When you make your angry face
"We need something stronger than Heparin. Human-activated protein C."
"Looks like Cuddy. Same cleavage," said House, looking pointedly at her chest. "Protein C is indicated for only severe sepsis."
"Well how many of his limbs have to be at stake for it to be severe?" countered Cuddy.
"But this stuff is crazy dangerous. It can cause internal bleeding. If he bleeds, he could stroke. He could die," replied House with mock concern.
"He could get better."
House slowly approached Cuddy. "You know, if I tried a scheme like this, you'd give me that nasty, wrinkly face and screech like a hyena." He crept closer to her, until he was barely a foot away, his face right in front of hers. "It's very sexy, I admit."
She was speechless for about two seconds, her face betraying her shock. "Do it."
That makes me wanna just take off all your clothes
"Good morning, Dr. House!"
"Good morning, Dr. Cuddy! Love that outfit. Says, I'm professional, but I'm still a woman. Actually, it sorta yells the second part."
"Yeah, and your big cane is real subtle too."
And sex you all over the place
Cuddy ran down the stairs and spotted House making his way to the door, about to sign out with the nurse at the front desk. She ran down to catch him.
"I want to run something by you," she said, breathless from running.
"I will not have sex with you! Not again!" said House loudly. "Miserable, that first time. All that desperate, administrative need!"
Could it be the little way you storm around
Cuddy entered the MRI Lab. "House!"
"Quick, God, smite the evil witch!"
She walked right up to the MRI machine. "Are you sitting on evidence that your patient was sexually abused by her father?"
That makes me wanna tear you down
"God, why have you forsaken me?"
"Don't worry. I have contacted child services for you. I let you get away with more than anyone in this hospital. Shielding a child abuser isn't covered," she yelled. Inside the MRI machine, House mimicked her. "Cooperate with this investigation or I'll fire you."
Baby I ain't sure, but one thing that I do know is
Every time you scream at me
"House!"
"Ruh-roh!" he said in his best Scooby-Doo imitation.
Cuddy looked furious. "It was just a consult! Did you expect us to shut down an entire floor for this guy?"
House frowned. "Did you do something to your hair?"
"Stacy?" asked Cuddy incredulously.
"You said you cleared it with her-" hissed Stacy.
"Come on. You've known me how long and you still don't know when I'm joshin' ya?"
"Take him back to prison. Now,"
House shrugged. "Can't," he said in an annoyingly reasonable tone. "Ironically, I'm bound by this court order which your ace attorney got. I have to make him all better before shipping him back for the state to kill him. Is it just me, or is that weird? Anyway, we're walking."
I wanna kiss you
"Hmmm...Only ate half of your breakfast...feeling a little sick this morning?
"I'm not pregnant. They burnt my omelet. You need to apologize to this guy."
"I'm a man of principle," thrusting his chin up. "I don't care how much time and money it costs you to defend me."
"He wants to kill you."
"No empty coffee cup...hmm...Off the caffeine." He nods and licks his lollipop. "Good for baby."
"Cups are in the other waste basket, baby's in your mind," replied Cuddy in exasperation.
House and Cuddy banter back and forth and Cuddy starts ranting…until she realizes that House isn't even looking at her, but is standing over her desk and reading her papers.
Cuddy stood up. "Pay attention to me."
House looked up, his face right by her ass. "Sorry but that would make it harder to ignore you. Can't ignore that rapidly expanding first trimester ass though," he said, clearly checking her out.
"Sometime an ass is just an ass."
Baby when you put your hands on me
House and Wilson were walking through the crowded hospital hallway, maneuvering around the sick hospital patients. They were talking about House's latest patient right as House spotted Cuddy walking straight for them, a woman on a mission. "Right rudder." They turn and change directions but House saw that she's still following. "Bank, bank, bank!" he yelled, but Cuddy caught up with them.
"Good coffee?" Cuddy asked through narrowed eyes. "The rest of this hospital is busting its tail, and…" Cuddy trailed off as House raised the folder he was holding to cover his face. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to think of anything except the produce department at Whole Foods," answered House from behind the folder.
"I am… working, it got hot! Stop acting like a 13-year-old!" she snapped as she smacked the chart away from his face.
"Sorry, you just don't usually see breasts like that on Deans of Medicine," said House, looking directly at her chest.
"Oh, women can't be heads of hospitals?" asked Cuddy, her hands on her hips. "Or just ugly ones?"
"No they can be babes. You just don't usually see their fun bags."
I wanna touch you
"The coma patient has a migraine?" asked a confused Cuddy.
"Oh no no no no no," replied House, "I gave him medication to prevent a migraine."
"That's a migraine, increased flow velocity in his cerebral arteries."
House looked at her uncomfortably. "I did subsequently give him nitroglycerine which could possibly—"
Cuddy looked at him in disbelief. "You induced a migraine headache in a coma patient?!"
House gave a little shrug. "Gave him a little headache, similar to the one you're giving me now."
"Have you even read an ethical guideline?"
"Well if you are going to try out a new migraine prevention medication on someone who can actually feel pain..."
Cuddy shoved a piece of paper in front of his face. "Did you sign this?"
He looked at it. "Errr... yeah," he said grabbing his cane. "We can talk later about the appropriate discipline." He gave a low sexy growl and limped out.
And when we get to arguing
"Is it still illegal to perform an autopsy on a living person?" asked House, peeking his head into Cuddy's office.
"Are you high?"
"It's Tuesday, I'm wasted."
Cuddy sighed. "It's Wednesday."
House entered her office. "I want to induce a hypothermic cardiac arrest. Once the patient's on bypass we siphon off two liters of blood then perfuse the brain while she's in an MRI."
Cuddy's eyes grew wide. "You're actually talking about killing her."
"Just for a little while, I'll bring her right back."
"Oh, well, in that case go ahead. Why are even talking?" asked Cuddy sarcastically.
"If we do nothing she's dead in a day, maybe a week; the kind that lasts."
"We need FDA approval for any surgical technique used for diagnostic purposes."
"Absolutely, if we were doing anything invasive; but there's nothing invasive—" He paused and almost sneezed. "Gah. You know, I'm not cutting into her head I'm just looking for a clot."
"Not invasive? You're killing her."
"Don't split hairs, if it works she lives."
Just gotta kiss you
"After that look, I'm feeling a little frisky. Looks like you're up."
"I'm ovulating. Let's go!"
"The frisky...it went away."
Baby I don't know why it's like that
"Need you."
"Yes mistress."
But you're just so damn sexy
"You're half an hour late," said Cuddy as House walked into the clinic.
"Busy case load."
"One case is not a load."
After a moment, "So, how are we doing on cotton swabs today? If there's an acute shortage I could run home–"
"No, you couldn't," replied Cuddy looking pointedly at his leg.
House looked impressed. "Nice."
When you're mad
"I have sad news for you. She doesn't love you."
"You're ugly when you're jealous."
"She showed up at my house last night, came on to me."
"She seems more perfect than I thought."
Cuddy sat down next to him. "House, she's sick."
"You say sick, I say free-styling."
"The girl will have sex with an invertebrate."
"Come on...you're not that bad!" answered House, giving her the once over.
"She has a problem. You're not doing her any favors by indulging her."
"Why would you lie like this?" he asked, "Do you not have any room in your heart for love?"
"You don't believe me?" asked Cuddy with a frown.
"I didn't believe the kids when they said Susie was sleeping with Johnny. I didn't believe them then and I don't believe them now. I don't care that Susie married Johnny. HE'S MINE!" he replied popping a chip into his mouth.
Cuddy stared at him for a moment. "She has a mole on her right breast, just below the nipple."
House looked down. "...No she doesn't."
"You've seen her breasts?" asked Cuddy, shocked and disgusted.
"It was a medical examine. I was listening to her heart. It went 'Greg House, Greg House, Greg House.'"
Baby, don't think I don't take you seriously
Cuddy and House were standing in Stacy's office. "Why are we here?
Cuddy looked at him. "We're talking about cutting off a kid's hand!"
"Yes, we're talking about cutting it off, not subdividing it and putting in condos. It's not a legal issue," answered House, clearly annoyed.
"Are you being intentionally dense?" yelled Cuddy.
"Huh?"
But I just can't help the fact that your attitude excites me
"Have you apologized to Cecelia Carter yet?" asked Cuddy.
"Trust me, she doesn't want to hear it from me. Look, the guy is killing himself. Am I the only one who realizes this is a bad thing? If he was a Christian Scientist refusing meds we'd have 18 attorneys…" He trailed off as he watched Cuddy begin to put on lipstick. "You're putting on make-up. That's not a good sign for my side, is it?"
Cuddy stood up and began to collect her things. "Sebastian has called a press conference for three. He's asked me to be there to confirm the diagnosis on the prognosis."
"You are as big a media whore as he is," said House, slightly disgusted.
"Of course I am. It couldn't possibly be that I think he's right and I'd like to be a small part of what he's doing."
"Oh, whores can like the sex. Doesn't mean they're not whores. And with that eye shadow…I am totally screwed, aren't I?"
Cuddy leaned in close to him. "Totally."
And you know ain't nothing better
"You'll do it."
"Why is it always me?"
"Because the world hates you…or because it's a class on diagnostics. Pick whatever reason feeds your narcissism better."
"I'm not doing it." He turned on his heels and walked out of her office. Cuddy watched the door and when she saw him walk back in, she quickly went back to doing her work. "You supposed to stop me. Renegotiate."
"Hmm, and you were supposed to keep on walking. Sorry, I guess we both screwed up. Go on, do it again."
Than when we get mad together
"All of his symptoms are caused by his underlying problem and the medicine we gave him."
"What underlying problem? You have no idea what the underlying problem is."
"You're the diagnostician," she said pointedly, trying to keep the anger from her voice.
"Fine. It's all my fault. Does that make you feel better?" he said in her face.
"His hand still has an arterial pulse," she said, pleadingly.
"His hand is a cesspool and the crap is spreading."
"You are being pretty aggressive about destroying a man's livelihood."
"Don't give a damn about his livelihood," replied House.
"He loses that hand, he loses his job. All of his jobs. He's not like us."
"He can't work as a cripple?" said House aggressively, stopping to look Cuddy in the eye.
Cuddy was shocked by the statement but recovered quickly. "He loses his home, his kid brother drops out…"
"American dream destroyed," he interrupted, "Very sad, very emotional. Not one medical fact in the whole pathetic tale. You've lost perspective, Cuddy. You've stopped looking at this as a doctor. You're acting like someone who shoved somebody off their roof. You want to make things right? Too bad. Nothing's ever right."
Then we forget what we were mad about.
"Cuddy." Turning slowly, he saw her look up from her desk and give him a questioning look. He walked slowly back to her desk. "Your guilt; It's perverse, and it makes you a crappy doctor." He paused. "It also makes you okay at what you do."
"You think a perverted sense of guilt makes me a good boss?" asked Cuddy, disbelievingly.
"Now would the world be a better place if people never felt guilty? Makes sex better." He points at Stacy with his cane. "Should have seen her in the last months of our relationship. Lots of guilt. Lots of screaming." Stacy made a face and Cuddy fought to keep the smile off her face. House continued. "I know this wasn't just because it was your roof. Cuddy…you see the world as it is and how it could be. What you don't see is what everyone else sees. The giant, gaping chasm in between."
Cuddy's head jerked up and she met his gaze. "House I'm not naïve. I realize-" replied Cuddy defensively, but House interrupted her before she could finish.
"If you did, you never would have hired me."
Cuddy didn't answer.
Taking her silence as permission, he continued. "You're not happy unless things are just right, which means two things. You're a good boss. And you'll never be happy." With that, he turned and walked towards the door for the second time.
"By the way," he said, looking over his shoulder, "Why does everyone think that you and I had sex? Think there could be something to it? I don't know." He shrugged and limped out the door, leaving Cuddy speechless.
Could it be the little wrinkle over your nose when you make your angry face?
That makes me want to just take off all your clothes and sex you all over the place.
Could it be the little way you storm around that makes me want to tear you down?
Baby I ain't sure but one thing that I do know is
Every time you scream at me I want to kiss you
Baby when you put your hands on me, I wanna touch you
And when we get to arguing, just gotta kiss you.
Baby I don't know why it's like that
But you're just so damn sexy
House was talking to Wilson as the exited the elevators. He spotted Cuddy and just when she was within earshot he changed the subject. "…The cutest little tennis outfit, my God I thought I was going to have a heart attack…" When she came up closer he acted like he just realized that she was there. "Oh my I didn't see you there. That is so embarrassing."
"How's your hooker doing?"
"Oh, sweet of you to ask. Funny story, she was going to be a hospital administrator but hated having to screw people like that."
When you're mad
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So what do you think? Isn't the song perfect for them? Well anyway please review! It would make me so happy! Oh and by the way! People who are following Desperation…I'm still in the middle of writing Chapter 6! It's going to be extremely long so you just have to wait for it ok? It's coming soon! I just had to get this out of my mind first! Much love! And everyone please review! hugs
