A/N (and Disclaimer): Had to write a fic to this song. "Gives you Hell" by All-American Rejects (to which I own no rights, just like the show--property of David Shore and FOX) (Only writing for fun) I needed a change from all my other serious fictions. This is like a Huddy remix. Not traditional, but in a way, it is because this is one way to see their relationship. It's not all lovey-dovey with these two and that's what this fic captures.
The song just fits so well and I can't believe I haven't seen anyone do something with this. But I have! Please Read and Review!


I wake up every evening, with a big smile on my face
And it never feels out of place

Where does she get off making an appearance in my dreams again? Speculated House angrily as he rubbed down his equally as irritable thigh in an attempt to calm it. Unfortunately, there was no calming his unconscious actions. Time and time again she would disturb his dreams; then he would wake up and meet her again for the superficial, work related formalities and unpleasantries. It was a vicious cycle. From his own personal hell to their own personal hells.

And your still probably working at a 9 to 5 pace
I wonder how bad that tastes

House arrived at work around ten, and glanced into her office to see her working on her desk. He gave her that desk. All that effort to uncover an abandoned medical school desk simply to have her labor over it day after day. She must spend more time with it then any human. And what does he get for his troubles? Nothing. Not a thank you, not an 'oh, how thoughtful of you'; and certainly not a promise of anything he certainly wasn't looking for. Who needs love when you have pain? Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back. No wasted time going from love to disappointment, to heartbreak to pain. He found the secret minus the extra steps.

Now where's your picket fence love
And where's that shiny car,
And did it ever get you far

As if she sensed him there, gazing through her glass doors and into her soul, she looked up. One smile was all it took. House's impulses betrayed him and he smirked. It was laced with mystery and mischief, but he knew she knew what it was. Damn her.

Before he could escape to his office, toward a case or away from her it made no difference—she caught up with him. She handed him a file and he accepted it. Without skin to skin contact he could feel her energy pass into him. Through the damn file. How on earth was that even possible? Even electricity can't do that. So why did she have such an effect on him? He grimaced. Conversely, the expression caused Cuddy to again smile, causing House to tense in all senses of the word.

You've never seem so tense love
I've never seen you fall so hard,
Do you know where you are?

"Your breasts are awfully perky this morning," he injected, with a 'take that' attitude.

She ignored his comment like a pro. Of course she was by now, he hated that even more. She was used to him; could take his crap and make it into candy.

He spoke again. "And by awfully I do mean, awful."

"Well you can awe at them later, but for now let's pretend you're not staring at my ass." She turned and walked down the hallway away from him. House tilted his head. It was a saunter. He loved it and hated it at the same time. Loved it because it was uniquely her, hated it likewise.

And truth be told I miss you

"I miss you," he admits a week after she had returned from a medical convention in Dallas.

"Like a dog misses a bone or a felon misses the law?" she offered skeptically.

"Like the moon misses the stars," he exhaled in pseudo-theatrical romance.

She rolled her eyes and he advanced closer to her. Really, the simile should have been 'like a smoker misses nicotine'. He was addicted to her. And she was the worst thing he could be hooked on.

"You have a date later?" It was more of a statement than a question, but he didn't need to explain that to her. Double damn.

She didn't turn around. She hadn't been hiding the fact from him as usual, and it royally pissed him off. It was as if she were rubbing her happiness in his face.

He opened his mouth in the beginnings of a long awaited declaration, but stopped short. There were too many conflicting emotions to differentiate between them. He intended to tell her she would never be happy, but say it in a different way than ever before. He would have told her this guy wasn't good enough for her, but that would be implying that she deserved the best. He attempted one more time.

And truth be told I'm lying

"I hope he gives you hell." He watched victoriously as her mouth dropped open.

He reached for the door and answered her previous question. "The felon thing," he answered. "I thought it was obvious."

Tomorrow you'll be thinking to yourself
Where'd it all go wrong, the list goes on and on

It was a cultivated relationship between them. Who planted the seed, he couldn't remember—didn't want to remember, but they had both been nurturing it in their own ways. She would offer a smile, him—an insult, her clinic hours, him a few snide remarks and innuendoes. The back and forth was like a flood though. The heat between them was undeniable, but once heated, one needed to cool down. It was simple biology. Homeostasis for them was to retreat from one another. Together the combination was toxic. But even the drought forced them to grow. House would lose control or Cuddy and it would only add to their relationship, whatever it was.

Now you'll never see, what you've done to me
You can take back your memories they're no good to me
And here's all your lies,
You can look me in the eyes
With that sad sad look that you wear so well

But it was there. It was real. It was complicated. It was hell.

Memories strangled him. He didn't know what it did to her, but they asphyxiated him to the point of no return. When he remembered them it was as if he were breathing her air. He hated it.

A normal life, a mundane job, bland dreams, was all he ever asked for. Instead he got Cuddy. Like it or not, she skidded her way into his life, only he wasn't strong enough to repel her.

The smile wasn't all that invoked unwanted emotion in him. When she was sad, he was miserable. Not the miserable he was used to, but a misery he would kill for. Kill someone else to remove it that is. She was his weakness; his passion; his friend; his enemy; his life.

When you see my face
Hope it gives you hell
Hope it gives you hell
When you walk my way
Hope it gives you hell
Hope it gives you hell
If you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well
Then he's a fool, you're just as well, hope it gives you hell

He wouldn't be free from her spell until he died. He was already in hell, but that would make the transition even easier. He could finally be alone there.

Too bad he wanted the same for her. Really wanted. Hoped even. With the hope of someone who practiced and had faith, he hoped to give her hell as she has given him.

See you in hell, Cuddy, he thought.

As he caught a glimpse of her leaving for her date, his posture loosened.

See you in hell, he repeated hopefully and regretfully, limping toward the exit.

Then you're the fool, I'm just as well
Hope it gives you hell