As a Huddy fan, I'm sure you all know that I was pretty thrilled with the ending of the House season 6 finale and the beginning of season 7. And, through this bit of inspiration, I decided to give into the requests and write a sequel. Kind of my tribute to House and Cuddy FINALLY hooking up.

Dear Journal,

A very, very terrible thing happened to me.

You see, the Cheerios and I had to go back to New Jersey for the final award ceremony. I usually dread the idea of wasting my time there, since I know exactly who will win (us, of course. Anything else would be an abomination of Biblical proportions). But knowing what wonders now awaited me in the form of Dr. House, the most attractive doctor on the face of the Earth, I graced them with my beautiful presence once again.

I returned to that hospital afterward, pretending to have an extreme pain in my ear. Those simpleton nurses will believe anyone who screams enough, and I must say I performed beautifully. I had made sure to come in late when much of the help was probably gone, so I could find him alone. Sometimes I amaze even myself with my cleverness.

That was when I first saw her.

At first, I was wondering why a hospital had random hookers walking around. It didn't seem very legally savvy. I asked the nearest nurse about it, and the stupid little brat told me in an equally stupid offended tone that she was the Dean of Medicine, Dr. Cuddy. Get over it. Dressing like that, you're asking for it.

I mean, yeah, I guess the average strait man would find her reasonably attractive…That is, if they mostly focused on her breasts. I could see Will Schuester wanting to ask her over for a sleepover, though that's hardly an accomplishment. And, yeah, I wouldn't want my doctor alone in a small room with her anytime soon. But that doesn't mean she's really hot or anything.

She was definitely no match for Sue Sylvester, the skinny little freak.

But anyway, realizing that she was the Dean of Medicine, I found that she was most likely going to see all her important doctors tonight. I quite stealthily followed her through the hospital, if I do say so myself. She only called security once, and I outran them.

Anyway, finally, my man arrived. The glass door read "Gregory House, MD." Hm, Greg. I could be on first name basis with him now.

"House, my office, now." She said, resting a ridiculously slender hand on her hip. He shrugged, picking up his cane and following her. I couldn't help but notice that his eyes seemed to stay on the lower part of her body as she walked in front of him. I'm sure she just had a really humiliating stain on her embarrassingly tight skirt. I could see the line of her ovaries through that thing.

I followed them to her office. Hiding right by the door, I listened to their talking. Except they weren't talking. They were whispering.

I couldn't make out what they were saying, and it bothered me. I didn't want my perfect man getting told anything indecent by his boss/prostitute. With my feminine grace, I casually glanced into the office, as not to arise suspicion.

They were going at each other like a pair of hungry baboons.

If I wasn't as in control of my emotions as I am, I probably would have puked. But I, Sue Sylvester, know how to keep down my stomach fluids at repulsive sights. I get practice on a day to day basis; mostly from the constant view of a certain Glee Club failure's glistening clumps of hair gel…not to mention half the kids in that damn school.

Her arms stayed around his neck as they pulled away. Her arms that I could break in two seconds. Hear me? Two seconds!

Then, of course, she just had to look my way and let out a pathetic little yelp of surprise.

"Didn't I call security on you earlier?" She barked, marching towards me and opening the door to her office. I stood my ground.

"Why yes, you did. But unless this hospital employs less obese security officers, they aren't going to catch this nationally renowned cheerleading coach." I smiled up at Greg House with that sentence. To my surprise and worry, he didn't look particularly amused.

"Wait…" He paused, looking me over. It felt good. Yes, very good indeed. "Aren't you that crazy woman who was staring at me like you found the holy grail?"

"So you remember me…" I winked.

"Uh…ew?" He walked up behind his boss. "Cuddy, she's obviously not mentally sound. Just—"

"'Cuddy?' Wow." I smirked, the shrew of a dean simply growing in annoyance, "You refer to your booty call by her last name? That's intimate."

"Hey now, just because her exceptionally pleasant booty is—"

"House." She glared at him, and he just shrugged. Sighing, she turned back to me. "Look, do you have any supervisors, ID, anything?"

"I'm Sue Sylvester." I privileged her with the knowledge of my name, whipping out my ID. "I'm an award winning cheerleading coach. I've been featured in Sports Illustrated and—"

"Ms. Sylvester?" Called an extremely bratty voice. Oh no. Not now.

I spun around to see who was called. It was Santana.

"Oh!" The "Dr." Cuddy said. "So…she was telling the truth about the cheerleading thing?…"

Santana ran up to me. "We couldn't find you after the ceremony, so we came looking. We need you on the field." She spotted Dr. House, and obviously attracted (her cutoff for men is age 55), she gave her trademark "I'm a slutty teenage girl" smile and wave. "Hi."

"Com'n, jailbait." I grumbled, grabbing her arm and dragging her away. If I wasn't going to hit that, she as hell sure wasn't. Santana gave a cry of protest, but I didn't look back.

I never returned to New Jersey after that. I already had Rachel Berry; I didn't need another whiny Jewish ho making my life a living hell. It seems that Will Schuester is the best...thing slightly resembling a man I'm ever going to have in my life.

Journal, I will now scream myself to sleep.

Because I do not cry.