Hope you like. Sorry for the wait (If anyone was waiting) I've had some problems with internet.

They're selling postcards of the hanging.

House: *COUGH COUGH*...blood?

They're painting the passports brown.

Wilson: House you...you... you have cancer.

The beauty parlour is filled with sailors.

House : Rachel...I gotta tell you something.

The circus is in town.

"What?" Rachel couldn't believe what she heard. They were sitting on the sidewalk. "Why don't you take the surgery? You'll live if you do that right?" She didn't understand rocket science but she knew that if cancer wasn't cured you'd die, and that if you had surgery it would go away...at least most of the time it was like that.

"That's the thing...it won't." House had the feeling he was putting a spear in Rachel's heart saying that, and he was right. That's how she felt. "You see...the surgery won't make it disappear it'll just post-pone it. And I don't want to live like a vegetable. That's why I'm not gonna take the sur..." Rachel got up to her feet.

"You know why you won't take the surgery? 'Cause you're a...a...an arrogant jerk! Mom always says that!" And with that she left. She left House sitting there on the sidewalk. He knew, deep down, she was right.

Hours later...

House was in a bar. House was drinking. House was...well...getting drunk. God, it was already...House glanced at his watch. 10 o'clock. It was late. But what could he do. Going to the hospital was out of the question. He couldn't see a friend. He didn't feel like going home. What could he do? He could drink. He asked the waiter for a fourth glass of whisky. He coughed up some blood but it was starting to be nothing that bad to him. He chugged his whisky, ignoring the fact that the barman was telling him that it was late and that he was drunk. Hey...he was going to die...what the fuck did he care about his own health. He didn't care. Yeah...that was right...he didn't have to give a shit about anything anymore. He was going to fucking die. He could do whatever he wanted to. And he already had his idea of what to do now...

7 O'clock...

"Rachel! Dinner's ready!" Cuddy was trying to take her mind off everything. Off the hospital. Off work. Off House. Weird...Rachel's not her yet. Usually she comes right away. Cuddy went up the stairs, to Rachel's room. "Rachel? Dinner's ready." She saw Rachel on the bed, face in the pillow. She was crying. She lift her head up. Cuddy saw her red eyes.

"House has cancer!" She yelled. Cuddy asked herself how she knew, but at the moment she didn't care. "House has cancer and he won't take the surgery!"

"Oh, honey, don't worry. House will take the surgery." Cuddy said, reassuring her.

"But he told me he wasn't!"

"Look, Rach, House just learned the news and he is very...um...upset. He told you that, but...let's just say he didn't know what he was talking about." Rachel kept sobbing. "Look, it won't stop you to see him. Play with him. You know what? Tomorrow, you'll convince him to have the surgery, ok?" She said. For some reason, she felt like crying.

"O...ok." Rachel said wiping her tears off. "Mom? Are you alright? Are you crying?"

"Of course not honey." She said wiping her tears off too. "Hey you must be starving. Let's get something to eat huh?" And with that, they left to the dining table.

10 twenty...

House rang the doorbell.

Cuddy got up. Who the hell could it be at this hour? She went down the stairs and looked who it was. Her blood ran cold. House was standing there, slightly wobbling.

"House?" Cuddy yelled. "What the hell are you doing here?" she said opening the door.

"I came here to...to...live." House said absent-mindly.

"What? House you're drunk! I'll take you..." Cuddy couldn't finish her sentence. House had kissed her. Cuddy was stunned. And she was even more so when House collapsed on the floor.

Next morning...

House woke up on Cuddy's couch.

"What...the...fuck?" He thought. He saw Rachel watching T.V. eating cereal. She didn't see him. "Rach...Rachel?" She turned around.

"Greg! You're awake!" She said, happily. Cuddy came in right away.

"Oh House. Thank god you're awake. Follow me in the kitchen." She said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him in the kitchen.

"Oh Cuddy. Did you get me drunk so you could do me? You know, you don't have to get me drunk..." House said, with a, oh so, sarcastic smile.

"Ha, charming. Let me brief you. You got drunk. You came to my house at ten twenty, at night, and you kissed me. Then, of course you, you lost consciosnence."

"Oh...so nothing THAT serious?" He said.

"Nothing that serious?" Cuddy yelled. "You come into my house. Kiss me and then..." House stopped her, with one hand on his temple and the other in the air he said.

"Shut up! I have a terrible headache."

"How many glasses of..." She sniffed his breath. "...Whisky can a man possibly drink?"

"In twenty minutes? You have no idea sister."

"House come on. I'll take you home." Cuddy said walking towards the door.

"No." House said.

"What?"

"I'm not drunk anymore. I'll take my motorcycle home." Cuddy sighed.

"Well...I'm not gonna stop...Sorry. I COULD not stop you so..." She opened the door. House started walking away. He stopped at the bottom of the steps.

"So...we didn't do it?" He said.

"Go home House. You wish." She said smiling. He went to his motorcycle (I'm gonna put some musical elements. Sorry to those who don't like it.)

Strange days have found us. He backed up to the streets. Strange days have tracked us down. He started driving away, not looking back. They're going to destroy. Right now he knew what he wanted to do. Our casual joys. He started driving to the hospital. We shall go on playing. He was going to do the thing House knew best. Or find a new town.

Hope you liked. If you didn't, please take a knife and fork, come to my House (lol) and stab my eyes out and stick the fork in my mouth. Or you COULD tell me how to make it better.

Read, review and enjoy.