The five times Lisa Cuddy got sick and the one time Greg House didn't look after her.

Lisa Cuddy had always been determined. At 3 she'd been determined to shave her head. Whoops. At 12 she'd been determined she'd been determined to beat a boy in a fight. And at 30 she'd been determined to become a female Dean of Medicine. She'd suceeded at all these things. Now at 42, despite waking up feeling like she'd been hit my a bus, with a throat like she was swallowing a bed of nails and a rapidly worsening runny nose, she was determined that Lisa Cuddy did NOT get sick. It looked like she might finally fail despite her determination.

As she made her way about her suburban house preparing for work, her determination was starting to waver. She'd almost overbalanced in the shower when a heavy sneeze caught her off gaurd, and had gone through half a box of tissues already- creating a rather rudolph-y tinge to her appearance.

By the time she'd forced her aching body into a black dress and the lowest heels she owned, her determination had shifted, from being sure she wasn't unwell, to being more determined that she would go into work despite a little cold.

The journey into work helped her confidence slightly, although she quickly realised that this was more due to the comfy seats of her car than a super-human immune system. She weaved through the hospital as quickly as her heavy legs and congested head would allow her, hoping to avoid House, who would instantly recognise that she was fighting a streaming cold.

She told her assistant to hold off any visitors, especially House, and spent the morning attempting paper work until an emergency meeting of the Transplant Commitee at 12pm. Even as she arrived and took her seat at the head of the table, she knew she was in no fit state to make this sort of decision, and immediately chose to take the option to abstain. She spent the next hour sniffly, coughing into the back of her hand, and keeping her mouth firmly clamped shut to avoid any oppurtunity to sneeze. She also had the growing worrying feeling of lightheadedness, all she'd need would be to faint in the middle of a meeting and her reputation would be shot.

Eventually the meeting drew to a close, Cuddy had absolutely no idea what the result had been, by this point she was past the point of thinking this was a cold, she knew this was the hardcore flu which was making her feel rapidly worse, she even suspected she may vomit, or even pass out. It took her so much effort to return to her desk, whilst avoiding House, that she had to stop 3 times to rest in bathrooms, elevators and even a cleaners cupboard. Eventually with a breath of relief she returned to her, seemily freezing, office. Just as she sank into the chair behind her desk, she sneezed heavily into her shoulder, unfortuneately for Cuddy, it was at this second House chose to appear as if by magic.

"We keep this sick people down the hall you know" He quipped, immediately noticing the red nose, glassy eyes and sniffles of someone feigning health. "You should probably get that lovely rotund ass of yours back home to bed before you infect the lovely good people who work under your command, namely myself. I'm on vacation from tomorrow, I don't want to spend it harbouring tiny Cuddy cooties"

Cuddy stood up, debated what to say, and after what felt like several centuries, realised her head was too muggy to think of anything coherant to say, let alone anything witty, and settled for raising an eyebrow and giving him what she sincerly hoped was a withering knew she'd been foiled, she knew she felt like she could fall off the chair at any second, suddenly the faint feeling she'd been fighting throughout the morning peaked. Black dots appeared in front of her eyes, and she saw the floor rising to meet her....

"Lisa, Lisa... anyone home?" No-one called her Lisa anymore, she was sure that half her employees didn't even know that her first name was Lisa. Her head was still far too muggy to even think about who it could possibly be....

"Come on Cuddles, I want to go home" Now there was no doubt about from whom the voice was coming from. But calling her Lisa, that was a very un-Houseish thing to do. Apparently he immediately felt the same, and quickly followed the niceities with a swift insult.

"I must say, your much less do-able with a runny nose and a smacked head, I'll have to alert Wilson immediately so we can edit our "S3Xy aDmIn!sRaToRs 09" tally."

"What happeded?" she asked her voice heavily laden with congestion.

"Well, we were doing the whirly-bird, and I think I got a bit excited...."

The next thing she was aware of was being lowered down onto the sofa in her office, covered by a blanket, and seeing the concerned face of Wilson and the slightly cocky looking face of House staring down at her.

"You have the flu. You're going home. I'm taking you. Is that simple enough for your fever addled brain to comprehend?"

Cuddy sneezed a well aimed "haschoo" into her shoulder in response.

".... Wait! Deluded!? I'mb dot deluded!" She spoke loudly, trying to sound strong, but only succeeded in sounding congested and hoarse.

"Coming into work with the flu! Thinking straight!? No way in hell! Don't you remember what happened last time!?"
"Which timb....?" Cuddy thought back.... falling into a fever induced sleep and remembering her previous ailments.