AN: I completely reworked the last chapter and deleted the stupid one about the ticker tape. You may want to go back an reread, sorry. I am unsure if this is gonna go anywhere, but it might.

That Bastard

Cuddy strode up towards her office fuming. Ripping open the outer door she glanced at her assistant desk. Enrico had quit last week. Behind the desk was a young female with very unpractical nails. Hair held back by Gucci glasses used as a headband, clothes that must have cost at least half a month's salary. She wouldn't last a week. There was no way House would leave this girl alone. Cuddy had a mind to give her a hard time herself. How did she type with those nails?

She'll stay.

The thought hit her so suddenly she tripped over thin air.

She threw out a hand to balance her. The unpractical secretary looked up and raised an eyebrow in a way to ask "both are you okay?" and "how did you manage that?" in one smooth look. Maybe she was better than she appeared. Cuddy gave a weak, pathetic smile and a quick wave in return as she regained her footing and tried not to scream.

This unpractical thing would stay. She would be Cuddy's new secretary for as long as Cuddy could stand her because House would not drive her away, because House was dead.

She took several deep breaths, steeled herself for the sake of her sanity, and pushed open the door.

Boxes covered every surface. Her desk looked comical covered in stacks of paper, illuminated only by the outside light sneaking in from the cracks in the drawn blinds.

Cuddy shut the door behind her and leaned against it.

Here it was.

Cuddy had acted perfectly normal up till now. She had done her round to check up on doctors, she had greeted everyone with a smile, and now she was done for the day.

She technically had the day off. She had set aside her entire day for this. To the rest of the hospital, she wasn't here

Outwardly House leaving everything to the hospital seemed like a kind gesture. But like everything with House, it was an illusion.

It would take all day to sort through his junk.

She kicked off her high heels and padded forward.

Settling at her desk she pulled out the center drawer to grab a marker to start labeling and promptly got a lap full of pens, pencils, staples, and paperclips. She shuddered.

"Don't think, don't think, don't think about how that's the last time that'll ever happen to you."

She grabbed the first box and got to work.

It was while trying to find more files that she found the old letter stashed away where she forgot about it.

It was formal.

Every letter, every period, every capital was in place. It was professionally written and for a minute she assumed that it wasn't from House.

But she knew it was.

It was the professionalism that scared her the most, the effort behind it. Not the proud driven kind of effort of a first grader given their first big project, but the simple kind of effort to do the job right that any other professional would have done. That's how she had known he was serious.

Cuddy read the letter again.

Gregory House M.D.

Head of Diagnostics

Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital

134 Kent rd.

Princeton, NJ 08536

Lisa Cuddy M.D.

Dean of Medicine

Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital

134 Kent rd.

Princeton, NJ 08536

January 4, 1994

Dear Dr. Cuddy,

I, Gregory House, regret to inform you that I am resigning my post as Head of Diagnostic Medicine here at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital due to personal circumstance. This should be taken as my one month notice of leave as outlined in my contract.

I thank you for all the opportunities the hospital has given me.

Sincerely,

Gregory House M.D.

Fuck.