A/N: I am going to go ahead and post another short chapter just because I hate waiting so long between updates...things have just been so F-ing busy for me lately. But this is the last gift you get, because from here on out it is going to get DEpressing...but in a good way ;-) heh...

Thanks so much to those of you who have stuck with this story and have taken tie to review...i lurve you, i do...

Remember December

Chapter 14

"Dr. House," a nurse at the front desk called out to House, but he ignored her on his way to the elevator. "Dr. House, Dr. Cuddy left this for you. "

House stopped in his tracks and looked back at the nurse who was holding up a blue folder. "Are there naked pictures of her in there?" He asked the nurse.

She frowned. "I wouldn't know. She told me not to open it." House's eyes widened and he snatched the file from her hands. When he flipped It open though, there were no naked pictures, no sultry note telling him to meet her in her office in five minutes. Nothing but a regular sick patient's file. Oh, and a post-it note with a reminder about the department head meeting at 3:00pm.

House rolled his eyes, pulled the note from the folder and crumpled it up. "What a jip," he muttered and as he was about to toss the note in the garbage he looked through the lobby into her office to find her talking with a group of stiff looking doctors. She caught his gaze and the corners of her mouth perked up in a smile. She 'accidentally' dropped her pen on the ground and when she leaned over in House's direction to retrieve it, he got a money shot of her breasts looking as though they might tumble out of that blouse if she wasn't careful. On her way back up she shot him a wink and he felt his penis stir. House took a deep breath, smoothed out the post-it and stuck it back in the file.

A few hours later the two were seated next to each other around a large conference table with twelve other department heads. House leaned over to Cuddy. "James McCarthy?" He whispered, inquiring about his new patient.

"I assume you know the name."

"He wrote a book, right?" He actually had recently been awarded the Nobel Prize for his novel which began with a new world leader instituting a peace process which included burning Jerusalem to the ground. The book had been banned in most countries and taken off the selves in school libraries and bookstores across the U.S. He had also recently been shot by a Jewish extremist, but survived.

"He's been having blackouts and memory loss. Nose bleeds—"

"I did read the file," House said.

"No one knows he's coming here, and no one can know. His family is having him transferred later today; they asked for you personally," she said.

"Really? I guess that makes sense; he'd want a doctor as ballsy as he is."

"No," she said simply, smiling as two more doctors entered and took their seats.

"No?"

"Do you need me to give you a lecture on how this is a very important patient, who if he dies because of some crazy theory you have that turns out to be wrong—"

"You can lecture me anytime you want my dear," he said much lower into her ear, "but why would they ask for me if—"

"Because you have a reputation for finding answers when no one else can. But, this time you're going to have to find your answer by the book. And since you still don't have a team to help keep you in line, I want copied on everything you do in this case, understand? And theories, any tests, any treatments, you talk to me first."

"You're going to work this case with me?" He asked her, slight hopefulness creeping into his voice. House tried to drag her into every one of his cases, but more often than not, she simply told him to go away and hire a team. Every now and then she'd humor him and toss out an idea or two, and he'd reel her in. These differentials were, strangely the most fun either of them ever had at work. It kept her sharp (she reveled in the puzzles almost as much as House did though she'd never admit it), and it kept him interested.

"No," she said. "I can't help you with this one, but I need you to keep me in the loop."

"Why can't you work it with me?" He asked.

Cuddy glanced around the room, and then lowered her voice. "Mr. McCarthy's family doesn't want any Jewish doctors involved in his treatment."

House's smile widened. "Really?" Cuddy nodded, a flash of something akin to anger in her eyes. House stifled a laugh. "This is going to be fun."

"House," her voice was stern again, but he cut her off.

"Looks like everyone is here. Let's get started so I can get back to my crackpot patient," he said loud enough for the other's to hear him.

Once the meeting had started though, House's attention started to drift. The talk was all budget criteria, who should get what and who should get cut. House was always top of the cut list, and he had no interest in listening to this bi-monthly bureaucratic mind fuck. So he found other ways to entertain himself. Cuddy shot him a warning glare when she felt his hand creep up her thigh to the place where her skirt had ridden up over her crossed legs.

She shifted nervously in her seat as his had crept to the soft skin on her inner thigh. She tried to turn herself away from him, but ended up only providing him easier access. He traced her leg until he was nearly pushing her skirt right up off of her legs and then stopped short. With his forefinger House started to trace the letters, I-W-A-N-T-Y-O-U. Cuddy's legs were trembling by the time he got to the Y.

She bit her lip, then touched her pen to the legal pad in front of her and scribbled, Your place after? House read what she had written and smiled, but shook his head and wrote, Your office.

No, she mouthed to him. House smirked, and his finger once again was drawn to the naked skin of her thigh.

Y-E-S.

Twenty minutes later they had locked her office door, drawn the blinds, and were breathing heavy against her bookshelves and falling onto the couch. House had tossed his cane to the floor and was eagerly pushing her skirt up her legs to reveal a grey laced thong. He pressed a kiss to her stomach just below her belly button before reaching underneath her skirt and pulling her panties off. Cuddy sucked in a deep breath and turned around pressing her back to him. House unzipped his pants with one hand while the other ran over her thigh and ass, pushing her skirt out of the way, and then finding its way to her clit. He pressed his thumb down there, causing her to buck against him. House laughed and then moved both hands to her hips pulling her back until he could easily move inside her.

"I love this job," he whispered to her as he snaked an arm around her waist, and picked up his pace.

Cuddy laughed. "You wouldn't get perks like this anywhere else."

That's for damn sure, House thought, vaguely wondering how he had gone so long suppressing this constant craving for her. How he had lasted so long by telling himself that the pangs he felt when he remembered their time together all those years ago was really a longing for the glory days of youth, and not a longing for her.

Cuddy dug her hands into the back of the couch just before she came, and stifled a cry into her shoulder. House was not far behind, planting his hands once again on her hips and riding out the last waves of his orgasm. Cuddy rose against him and rested her back on his chest. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and one arm went around his neck. Still not letting go of her waist, House pressed soft kisses to her neck and shoulder, until she turned in his arms gave him a slightly rougher kiss.

"I think you may be the perfect woman," he said smiling against her lips.