New chapter, finally(: Thank you for all the reviews! I wrote this pretty late, so if there are grammatic or spelling errors...let me knoww. Enjoy!

Cuddy wasn't making very good progress moving on.

"This has been nice," Cuddy uttered as politely as possible, giving Asher her best Dean of Medicine smile, standing up from the table. Asher stood up as well, returning the smile.

Any onlooker would have thought that their date had gone extremely well; flirtacious small talk, light but intelligent banter...all the essentials of a perfect date. But all Cuddy had wanted to do the entire time, was leave. Maybe puke a little.

It wasn't that Asher was gross.

No, no. He was the opposite of gross. He was tall, dark and handsome. But he was intensely boring for Cuddy.

What made Cuddy want to be sick, was the reality of it all; how pathetic she was. She was trying to convince herself to be attracted to a guy. Was this really better than being single?

Dr. Asher walked her to her car. "This was fun," he gushed, his genuine smile making Cuddy uneasy.

"Yeah, fun." Cuddy unlocked her car. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Asher standing there awkwardly, contemplation in his eyes. He was undoubtedly planning his next action: go in for the kiss, suggest our next date? She ended his hesitation by getting in her car. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dr. Asher," Cuddy said, quieter than she had intended. Cuddy pulled out, and drove away.

Cuddy realized, that what she had done was unkind. Dr. Hall Asher was a person, and she had been testing him out like a chew toy. Asher obviously liked Cuddy, and Cuddy had basically just rejected him. It was her mistake, going on a date because she thought it was her duty to find a good partner.

In Cuddy's peripheral vision, lights of hotels, streetlights, houses', flashed by; becoming fast-moving blurs. As she got onto the highway, she couldn't help wondering why she had done all this. Did Cuddy really think that the outcome of this date would have been any different? Cuddy accelerated onto the freeway, watching the other cars around change lanes, speed up, slow down; flashing signals and bright headlights. New York was different then New Jersey in all too many ways, but some things were just the same.

For the first time that night, Cuddy let her mind wander to House.

She wondered what House was doing this Friday night.

She wondered if House was thinking about her this Friday night.

She wondered why she wasn't with House this Friday night.

House retched for the fourth time in the past minute into the toilet. Once the regurgitation had left his mouth, he took a few desperate breaths in. He turned to Wilson. "Give. Me. The pills."

"House, you'll get through this," he reassured him.

"No amount of sanity is worth this hell," House argued, wiping his mouth with a towel.

"You'll thank me later," Wilson sighed, picking up one of House's Playboy magazines, and leafing through it.

He looked over to Amber, who was sitting on the side of the tub. "You know, Cutthroat Bitch isn't looking that bad. Maybe we should keep her," House's sarcastic tone was dilluded with gasping breaths and chokes. He turned and puked again into the toilet.

Amber crossed her arms, "What if this doesn't get rid of me? Then what do you do?"

House turned back to Amber, wiping his mouth again. "I'll kill myself."

Wilson put the magazine down, "House," he started.

"I wasn't talking to you," House snapped.

Amber laughed maniacally, "So you'll kill yourself, just to kill me"

"No," House replied, taking a break in his sentence to throw up again, and then turning back to Amber to argue, "I'll kill myself, to stop the pain."

"Am I not the pain?" Amber asked, looking hurt.

"Don't give yourself too much credit, you're barely half of the sh*t I'm dealing with," House spoke in raspy breaths and his body shook sickly.

Wilson, getting up from his stool by the sink, sauntered over towards where Amber was, "What are you guys talking about?" he wondered aloud to House.

"Your skills in bed," he answered flatly. Wilson laughed, "Well there's a lot to talk about there," Wilson commented, anticipating a critical response from House. He glanced down after a few seconds at the still man hunched over the toilet, "House?"

House looked up, his face going paper-white. He collapsed onto the tile.