A/N-This is my Season 1 fic. I really wanted to write one story for each season and this is the last one that I have to do in order to fulfill that goal. It will be a short story, I think around 4 chapters, but it depends on which point I decide to stop at, so maybe a few more. Thanks to everyone who has read, I hope you enjoy this one.

I don't own the characters of House, MD. This fic contains adult language and situations.

Takes place late in Season 1, post-Vogler, pre-Stacy's re-appearance.

-The Changing of the Guard-

House trudged through his kitchen, dumping coffee into a cup before he tossed the morning's second Vicodin into his mouth. When he heard a particularly bossy knock on the door, he winced and weighed his options, deciding to stand still and remain quiet rather than answer. Cuddy could handle the situation herself. But she didn't quit. Limping as noiselessly as possible, avoiding the known creaky boards, he went into the living room as the persistent knocking came to a sudden stop. He nodded as he acknowledged his victory, satisfied that he had won the round until he heard the clicking of a key sliding into place and turning. Watching with a combination of irritation and dread, he saw the knob turn and the door swing open. Cuddy was on the other side, marching into the apartment, pausing briefly to admonish, "Seriously? Your spare key is hidden above your door?"

She handed him the key, looking with the utmost disgust at his pajamas and walking back to his room.

"I thought it was safe," he shouted down the hall, "since it seemed way too high for you to reach."

He could hear her rummaging pause, and he could almost feel her scowl through the wall. "You think this is a joke?" she answered, her voice becoming clearer as he neared his room.

"Like your hide-a-key isn't practically begging to be found."

"I'm not talking about the key I'm talking about…," she looked out from the closet for a second, confused, "How do you even know where I live? You know what? It doesn't matter because you're only trying to distract me."

Once he was in his room, he surveyed the scene, accusing openly, "You're in my bedroom, digging through my closet… Is this your version of making a pass?"

"I want you to get dressed. Now. We have a half-hour to get down there. I should have known," she griped as shoved the clothes she had selected against him and disappeared down the hall, "that you couldn't be professional enough to show up for this. This could mean your job, hell, it could mean my job. Not that I'd ever imagine you would care about anyone's job but your own."

"That's not true, I don't really even care about mine."

"The lawyer said it's no big deal. We show up, give a statement, mostly I'll give a statement, so hopefully you have to say as little as possible. Just try not to get us both fired. Please, be professional and courteous…act like you're a brilliant doctor and not some disgruntled flunkie."

"Fine. I'll meet you there."

"Oh, no way. I'm here now. I'm driving you. I put my career, my reputation, at risk every single time you take a case. I'm not going to further tempt fate by hoping you'll show up when I need you."

He emerged from his room, wearing clothes that were not the clothes she had handed to him, but he was in a dress shirt and black jeans, so she was satisfied by his attempt at proper attire for the situation. She walked back to his room again, like this wasn't one of the only times she had ever set foot in his building, and came back with a tie. Approaching him without even a second's hesitation, she flung it around his neck and effortlessly tied it. "You look good," she admitted, looking more at her handy work than him. "Almost like a specialist…or at least a grownup."

"Your symptoms are worsening. This is a whole new level of micromanaging."

"It's not micromanaging. You left me no choice. This isn't a joke. This lawsuit could ruin your career. These people aren't messing around. You cross a certain point…and there is nothing I, or anyone else, can do to save your ass. I tolerate a lot of bullshit, but there are lines even you cannot cross."

"You really expect me to do this?"

"You made this bed…so get cozy."

House sulked in the car, dressed nicely, looking like a teenager being dragged to a wedding he couldn't stand to attend. Once they arrived, they sat in an overly air-conditioned waiting room, filled with leather upholstered furniture and décor that was supposed to communicate the success and experience of the lawyers it served. Cuddy sat perfectly still, nervous but composed, until House tapped his cane one too many times on the coffee table. Her hand reached out, pressing down on the cane to hold it still.

"Relax," House grumbled, "it's all a formality anyway. She lived. A patient who's alive and healthy, swooped from death's door by yours truly, does not have a lawsuit in the making."

"They're suing because they claim your methods were reckless…that the initial failed attempts to treat caused her unnecessary pain and emotional anguish."

"And you already told them that the alternative to 'emotional anguish' was death?"

When a man emerged from one of the offices, Cuddy stood immediately, extending a hand and introducing herself. "Dr. Cuddy," the man answered so politely that it seemed condescending, "we've reached a settlement in this case. Your board just informed us that they've accepted our terms."

"You're mistaken. The board is meeting tonight."

"No, ma'am, they just met. They've accepted our terms. Thank you for coming, I'm sorry that your presence here was unnecessary."

"I think there has been some confusion. I'm Lisa Cuddy, this is Gregory House. We're from Princeton-Plainsboro."

"I know who you are. I can't release any additional information, so may I suggest that you contact some of your board members for answers to any of your questions."

Cuddy's jaw tightened as a wave of nerves consumed her mind while she began to put together pieces of the puzzle. As much as she hoped it was all some misunderstanding, something she'd later laugh about, her instincts told her that the situation was something far more troublesome. "Thank you," she told the lawyer abruptly, walking swiftly to the door and pausing long enough to wordlessly demand that House follow her.

They didn't say a word in the car as they drove back. House was irritated enough that he was removed from his apartment to attend a meeting that didn't even happen, but given the way Cuddy's hands grasped the steering wheel, he thought it might be best to point out his displeasure to her at a later time.

Once at the hospital, the writing was on the wall when she saw a blue-uniformed employee removing her name from the door and one of the most prominent board members awaiting her arrival. "Dr. Cuddy…Lisa," the board member said carefully, as she directed Cuddy and House into the office, "I'm sorry. This lawsuit, right on the heels of losing Mr. Vogler and his financial support, it was the last straw. Your decisions put this hospital at far too much risk. I'm afraid we need to let you go."

"I was voted out without being given the option to resign…at a board meeting that was held without my knowledge?" Cuddy asked. "This is beyond unconventional, in fact, it's completely inappropriate and probably a breach of contract."

"The hospital was at too great a risk to-"

"The hospital isn't at risk from Cuddy," House interrupted snidely, "she hovers protectively over this building like nothing else matters."

"Her decisions have cost this hospital millions. Her allegiances are misplaced and poorly prioritized."

"But she's not a risk. I'm the risk."

"Many of us feel that she hovers protectively over you first, Dr. House," the board member answered, "and the hospital itself is a secondary concern."

"You're obviously misinterpreting her chronic nagging as protective hovering. I can see how easily those two things could be confused. Ask anyone, nothing matters to Cuddy but this hospital. It's her child."

"Dr. House, this matter is closed. You'll be meeting with your new supervisor in a few minutes to discuss the terms of your continued employment. Things at this hospital are going to change."

"My continued employment? You're firing Cuddy but you aren't firing me?" House asked, shaking his head with confusion. "Who came up with this genius plan?"

"House," Cuddy pulled his sleeve and turned him to face her.

"Check your contract, you'll be fine."

Cuddy patted his arm, "It's been good to meet you again, even if the initial circumstances were less than ideal. I know you and I have had some…well, I know you don't like the way I've done most of what I do and some days you drove me completely insane…but I have a lot of respect for your abilities and we've accomplished some pretty impressive things together. Believe it or not, there were a few times when working with you was actually almost…well…it wasn't horrible. If this is it, I wish you the best."

He stared at her, looking down at the spot where her hand rested on his arm before regarding her with puzzlement. Then the moment was over, the contact withdrawn, and she asked the board member about collecting her belongings. House considered the scene, assuming that she must have had a plan because she was far too calm, accepting the change with too much resignation. After she was told how she could get her things, and the board member stepped out into the hallway, House moved in front of Cuddy. "The job...for an administrator, you weren't horrible."

She smiled fleetingly, "You're welcome. Take care of yourself, House," and she walked out of the hospital.

Watching until he could no longer see her, he stood motionlessly, completely disregarding the fact that a man was standing two feet away and attempting conversation. "What?" House asked testily after a few moments.

"I'm Joseph Malloy, your new supervisor. Come this way so we can discuss some changes that we will be instituting here at the hospital. Dr. House, are you alright?"

"Absolutely," House answered decisively before he began to walk toward the elevators.

"Dr. House," Malloy called insistently, hurrying to catch up, "what are you doing? We aren't finished here."

House continued to press the 'up' button on the elevator, largely disregarding the man in a very expensive suit who tried to look authoritative. Still staring at the doors, House commented, "Normally I'd really love to sit and discuss these changes with you, drink coffee, consider these wonderful improvements that you are making here at the hospital."

"Perfect, my office is-"

"But this isn't normally. I don't see a lot of point of sitting through your meeting if I'm not being paid."

"Oh," Malloy laughed, "don't worry. Your job isn't in any jeopardy as long as you can agree to our terms. So why on earth wouldn't you get paid?"

House stepped into the elevator, holding out his cane to block any followers, stating, "Because I quit," and adding at the exact moment before the doors sealed completely, "but feel free to keep paying me if you want to."

After seeing Wilson through the peephole, Cuddy opened her door. "Hey Wilson," she sang in a slightly tipsy way, trying to sound happier and more carefree than she was.

Her professional, perfectly fitted work attire had been cast aside hours earlier in favor of comfortable, loose clothing more suited for sleep than company. Wilson leaned forward to hug her when a cool glass bottle pressed into Cuddy's belly and she turned to see House's taller figure standing off to the side of the doorstep. "Drink first, hug later…or not at all," he suggested.

She looked down at the bottle he had wedged between her and Wilson. "House, what do you want?" she whined. "You're here to gloat?"

"I'm here to drink. And since you're unemployed, I'm supplying."

"We come bearing gifts," Wilson offered more diplomatically, holding up a large paper bag.

Cuddy appeared to exist in a space between touched and confused, "What's really going on?"

House was already behind her, actually standing inside her home next to her before any invitation to enter could be offered, "We're going to figure out how to get your job back. And, my presence alone should be enough to cheer you up."

"You are going to cheer me up?" Cuddy asked, turning to face him with her hands on her hips. "That's like using sandpaper for a massage, isn't it?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of drinking, food and plotting revenge on those responsible for your untimely ousting. I'll need a few more drinks if you want a massage."

House was limping into her living room before Wilson even got in the door. "He really wanted to come," Wilson explained, "he's worried. And he thinks he can get your job back."

Cuddy and Wilson walked into the living room where House was already making himself comfortable as he questioned suspiciously, "Tell me you didn't just give up and walk out of there without a fight."

Cuddy folded her arms, "There was no point in arguing with her. She was just the spokesperson. I needed to get out of there, figure out what I was doing and go from there. It wasn't the time for thoughtless reactions. Besides…I have two standing job offers with other hospitals and maybe it's time I consider a change."

House opened the bottle and held it out to her: a challenge. She took it from him, smirking proudly before she took a harsh swig. "I knew you still kept fun-you in there somewhere," he commented.

"Most of us had to grow up. I didn't exactly have a lot of time to party with the demands of my job."

"Then are you sure you want that job?" he asked, reaching for the bottle.

"Yes, I want it. Tomorrow I'll start to plan, but tonight I'm going to have a few drinks, relax and enjoy the fact that I can be completely irresponsible and you guys have to worry about getting up in the morning."

Wilson sighed, "I'm the only one who has to get up."

"House," Cuddy warned, "don't be late and don't mess with these people. They'll fire you faster than-"

"They can't fire him," Wilson interrupted, "because he quit."

She gawked as she attempted to think of the proper response to the revelation, "Why?"

"I can't work for that guy. You've spoiled me. Right now, when you're nagging me with your annoying, piercing voice…I'm staring at your heaving chest. It takes the edge off. His heaving chest does nothing for me."

"Is every near-compliment coated with an insult and-or blatant degradation?"

"That wasn't degradation. I wasn't asking you to do something different or additional that somehow degraded you, I was just finding the silver lining, appreciating your natural reaction to being irritated by me, which is further evidence that I am the embodiment of optimism."

"I'm trying to remember why I kept saving your ass."

"Simple. You'd be bored without me. I'm interesting, I challenge you, and I'm helping you to make a name for that otherwise average hospital. Plus, when it comes down to it…you like me."

She scoffed so loudly it was almost comical, "I like you? Realizing what's good for my hospital and liking someone are totally different things."

"But in the end, you didn't even try to trade my job for yours. If you didn't like me you would have tried to bargain…offered to get rid me in order to save yourself."

"How do you know I didn't call as soon as I left to make that very offer?"

"You didn't."

"How do you know?" she challenged. He waited, pulling the answer from her through his expression alone. "Fine, I didn't! But I could have."

"Of course you could have, but you didn't. And I can tell that you didn't because you are one well-placed comment away from a total nervous breakdown."

"I am not. I'm perfectly calm."

"You're definitely trying to be, you put on a good act, but you're not perfectly calm. Your jaw is so tight that you're lucky you still have teeth. Your fists are clenched, your breath is shallow."

"Well I didn't expect to get fired today…that's not the kind of news that is inherently relaxing. There is a little bit of understandable tension. So maybe I'm not having a nervous breakdown, and I'm just annoyed by you."

"Which could explain the tension but does not explain the fact that you were two drinks away from completely wasted before supper and before I even got here."

Her brow furrowed with hurt for a second, "I lost my hospital."

"I know."

"My career matters to me. I need to start making calls so I can get my hospital back or…look for a new hospital, a new job."

Wilson added, "I'm not staying there either. Tomorrow, I'll start looking for another job."

"You can't quit," House answered.

"You did. I don't want to work for a hospital where-"

"You're the man on the inside. No matter what she says, Cuddy doesn't want a different hospital, she wants her hospital. I want my job. We need you working there and still on the board."

"If you want your job, then why'd you quit?" she asked him loudly.

"Face it, Cuddy," House replied casually, "if that place fired you, I'd never last the week. So far, you're the only boss who doesn't fire me. Now, you could easily get a job somewhere else, and, let's be honest, you'd probably hire me back. I could sit and wait until you find something else, but at Plainsboro I have my team, my office, my Wilson…it's all there already, so why change?"

"Go back in tomorrow and get your job back. Other administrators won't fire you if you follow their rules. You can keep all of those things you value, you just have to put in a little effort."

"I don't want to put in the effort to follow the rules and play nicely with others. I want to work for you."

She scowled unhappily, "Still trying to remember why I didn't fire you."

Ignoring her, he continued, "I may also acknowledge…some small, almost negligible role in your firing."

"Almost negligible?" she griped through gritted teeth.

"Maybe we should go," Wilson offered, "I'll see what I can find out at work tomorrow and we'll start planning tomorrow night."

"Go?" House countered, "We have booze, food, and Cuddy is half-drunk while on the verge of a complete meltdown. I don't want to miss it."

Cuddy was, at that point, so angry she could no longer hide it. "Do you have any idea what I've done for that place? The hours I've worked, the things that I've sacrificed for that hospital?"

Her composure was suddenly running very thin, and she seemed ready to plunge fully into her carefully avoided nervous breakdown when House leaned toward her and waited until her attention was entirely on him. The flippantness gone from his tone and demeanor, he stated with complete solemnity, "You will get your hospital back."

She cleared her throat, her poise returning after her moment of worry, "Of course I will. There is a reasonable explanation for this. I just need to figure out what it is."