Author's Note: I originally heard the story of Hatshepsut and Senemut from my ancient world studies professor, who had been on many digs in Egypt and really knew his stuff. I've only been able to verify part of the story after a quick search of the Internet, but his version was too good to give up.

As always, please review. It will make my day!

Hatshepsut's Temple

Out of every single person in the universe, House was the last one Cuddy wanted to see right now. She wished she could blame Murphy's Law for the fact that he was standing there, but that would imply that the universe (or fate, or luck) had a hand in putting House outside her bedroom window a little after midnight, and she didn't want to think that the universe was that cruel. Or that creepy.

She unlocked and opened the window before House could knock on it again, and the freezing air that rushed into her room had nothing on the look she gave her visitor.

"House," she said, "I see you've decided to die slowly of hypothermia where I can watch from my bed. That's the nicest thing you've done all week."

"I need to talk to you," he said. "Unlock the door."

"No, and here's why: it's either hospital business, or it's personal. If it's about a patient, you know that acting rationally and calling me on the phone is the best way to convince me on some radical treatment, so you must be going out of your way to annoy me. If it's personal, it's an apology or I don't want to hear it." She lowered her voice and leaned a little more out into the winter night. "You better damn well be here to apologize, and you can do that where you are."

"Come on, let me in. The three of us are getting colder." He stared pointedly at her chest. Cuddy looked down, and sure enough her nipples were clearly visible beneath her pajama top. With a sigh she turned on her heel, but was back in a moment wearing a thick fleece robe.

"Fine." House snapped. "Look, you're angry at me. I get that. But how the hell could I have known that your big money donor of the week had the sensibilities of a Victorian nun?"

A feeling of disbelief warred with her anger, and her voice came out sounding strangled. "Please, please don't tell me you want to mollify me by waking me up and claiming it wasn't your fault. Of course it's not your fault! It never is! It's… it's Mr. Rainer's fault for having a sense of decency, or my fault for wanting his money for the hospital!"

Cuddy took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. House was watching her carefully. "Do you feel better now?" He asked.

"No. If screaming at you helped, I would have felt better earlier today."

"Fair point." House shifted on his feet. He wasn't wearing a thick enough coat for the weather, but he didn't seem bothered by the cold. He seemed agitated, almost. "I'm sorry."

It took a moment for Cuddy to catch the soft words. In return her voice was harsh. "And why should I forgive you?"

House paused, glancing up at the stars. Finally he answered, "Because Hatshepsut forgave Senemut," and met her eyes again, looking at her with as much sincerity as she ever saw him show.

"I should forgive you because of some reference I'm too tired to Google right now?" She moved to close the window, though it was just a feint. She wanted to know what House meant, and they both knew it. All the same, House grabbed her wrist to stop her. His hand was freezing, which was the only reason she shivered at his touch.

"You must know who Hatshepsut was."

Staring down at him, Cuddy slowly nodded. "She was an Egyptian queen."

"Partial credit. She was a full-fledged pharaoh." House let her wrist go, and his lips twitched upwards into a smile. "It didn't matter to her that it was against Ma'at for a female to be pharaoh. She took control of Egypt – quite successfully, too."

"Okay. So who was Senemut?"

"Her head architect. He was in charge of building her mortuary temple at Deir el-Bahri. He was also her lover."

Cuddy felt her cheeks grow warm, despite the chilly air drifting into her bedroom. The comparison was not lost on her. Hatshepsut forgave Senemut. Cuddy sighed. "And surprise, surprise, Senemut did something bad. Did he humiliate her in front of all the high priests?"

House at least had the decency to look a tiny bit ashamed. "No. Well, kind of. Will you just shut up and let me tell the story?

"In typical pharaoh fashion, Hatshepsut had her life story carved into the walls of her temple. By depicting her life – hell, just by writing her name in the temple, she was ensuring that she had a place to spend eternity. Part of her would always live where her name was written.

"There was a row of pillars set near a wall. They were so close to the wall that the only way to see behind them was to slide a mirror into the space between. Senemut carved his name onto the back of each pillar."

"Ah," Cuddy said. "He wanted to live forever in the same place as her."

House smiled. "When she found out, she was angry… to say the least. It was probably the most presumptuous thing he had ever done. Anyone would view it as a sign of disrespect and audacity towards the pharaoh. So she started to scratch out all the names, pillar by pillar."

Cuddy found herself feeling strangely sorry for Senemut, considering he was a guy who died thousands of years ago. "But she forgave him?"

"But she forgave him. She stopped before all his names were gone. She even let him put his picture behind the temple doors. Maybe eternity seemed better with Senemut, even if he didn't always follow the rules."

With his story finished, House stood still, his only movement the occasional shiver from the cold. He was looking up at Cuddy expectantly.

"House-"

"You said you hated me."

"I was angry at you." I still am, she corrected herself. "I don't know why you need me to help you feel better, or even why you feel bad in the first place. You might have noticed that you anger me a lot."

"Yes, you get angry: you threaten to fire me, you compare me to Nazis… that's all fun and games. You've never said you hated me before."

Cuddy's mouth dropped open. "This is because of something I said while- while ranting at you?" And oh yes, there was that anger again. "Is this some kind of joke?" The look on House's face made her stop abruptly. It had been a long time since she had seen him look so defeated. "House," she began again, this time much softer.

"Stacy said it once. She said it, and then she was gone."

A knot formed in Cuddy's stomach as he continued. "Wilson never says it, not when he's angry. You never say it either, until yesterday."

Silence descended as House stared at the windowsill and Cuddy stared at him. She hadn't even known that she had had a sharp stick; much less that she had found a vulnerable spot in his armor. Now she was picking her words as carefully as if she were in a minefield. "House, Stacy didn't mean it. She left because of the things you did, not because of the things she felt. I didn't mean it either. Chances are, I never will."

Blue eyes met hers and held. Her heart beat faster as he searched for something in her expression. Whatever he found, it let him relax slightly. "Fine," He said, and tapped his cane against the frozen ground. It was kinetic punctuation – House's way to close the matter.

The tension seeped away and suddenly Cuddy found herself smiling. "Does this mean that if Wilson had said it, you'd be outside his bedroom window right now?" She joked.

House took the bait. "No. But only because his is on the third floor and I'm not exactly cut out for jumping," he paused, "me being white and all."

Cuddy smiled, and then glanced at her clock. "Well, if soul-searching time is over, you should probably-"

"You know, in CMYK, mixing all the colors gets black. But in RGB, mixing all the colors gets white."

"What does that have to do-"

"So depending on which system you use, whites are the people of color."

"That's fascinating. Go tell Wilson about it."

"You really don't hate me?"

"You piss me off a lot – including now, by the way – but no, I don't hate you."

House gave a wolfish grin. "Does that mean you like me?"

"Sometimes, when your mouth is shut-"

House kissed her.

It was an awkward angle with House putting almost all his weight on his cane as he tilted towards her, so she leaned further out of the window to compensate, and her hair fell around both their heads like a dark curtain. House put his hand on her shoulder to steady her as he deepened the kiss.

Just as her lips parted with a low moan and House was anticipating the heat of her tongue, he moved his hand to the back of her neck.

The mood was broken by the shriek Cuddy made as she jumped back, her head narrowly missing the window frame. "Dear God your hands are cold!"

"And whose fault is that?" House countered after he regained his balance.

"Yours! Why aren't you wearing gloves? Never mind – I know the answer. It's because you have the common sense of a two year old." Cuddy tried to glare at her most infuriating friend, but she couldn't keep a smile from breaking through. "Come around to the front. I'll unlock the door."

"You said you weren't letting me in."

"Well, I do have this bottle I've been dying to open, and now I have an occasion. You apologizing isn't an everyday thing, you know."

"Red or white?"

"Huh?"

"The bottle."

"Oh. Chartreuse, actually. It's made by Carthusian monks way up in the Alps, or something."

House was already moving away from the window, slowly cutting across the snowy yard. "Mmm, monk booze." He said agreeably.

She started closing the window, but thought of one last thing. Once she let House through her door, she didn't want to have to think about the hospital. She didn't want to think of House as her brightest and most infuriating employee. She just wanted to think of him as a friend for once. It was a role she missed. So she had to get one last threat out of the way.

"House," She called, and he paused without turning back to look at her. "I have more potential contributors coming by this week. If you interfere in the slightest, I'll have your name carved into the clinic walls."

House didn't move for a second, and then he started laughing as he continued towards the front door. Cuddy slid the window shut and carefully locked it, already looking forward to seeing House smile when she opened the door, and maybe even hearing him laugh again as he warmed up at her kitchen table.