Legacy

a House fanfic

Summary: Set two weeks after the 4th season finale. Thirteen hands in her resignation to House, he refuses to accept it; a side of House he usually hides emerges during the long talk that follows.

Keywords: House/Thirteen, Alternative Universe, Mature

Author's note: This is the first time I've written fan fiction... sort of. Recently I've started on a rather large piece of fan fiction, being a crossover between NCIS, Bones and Criminal Minds. Yes, I'm probably mad for starting with something like that. But, seeing as that's nowhere remotely close to suitable for consumption, here is something that kept bubbling up.

Warning: It's heavy on dialogue, seeing as it tends to come easily to me. In later chapters it'll probably balance out a bit.

Soundtrack for this chapter: Hope for the Hopeless by A Fine Frenzy, as published on One Cell in the Sea.

Disclaimer: I'll put them back in their original places when I'm done, promise. Then again, everyone lies.

Chapter 1 – Done being morose

Thump. Thump. Thump. House sat in his office, throwing and catching the ball, the ceiling being the target of his displeasure for the time being. Wilson hadn't spoken to him in two weeks, not more than single-syllable answers anyway, and it made House miserable. Reflecting on this he corrected himself. "More miserable than usual." he muttered under his breath. He'd tried listening to a few tracks earlier, but his iPod lay on the floor in pieces, at least the ceiling wasn't so damn fragile. Thump. Thump. Someone caught the ball in midair.

He looked up, about to lash out in anger when he noticed Thirteen had interrupted him. Not that it would've stopped him from lashing out normally, but she looked even more miserable than he felt. Pondering this for half a second he still couldn't figure out why that made him hold back, then his gaze fell on the envelope she was holding. Curiosity overtook him. "Are those Cuddles' nudy pics I heard a rumor about?" he asked, raising a solitary eyebrow.

"You started that rumor." Thirteen deadpanned, but despite herself couldn't keep a smirk from forming. "In fact if the word rumor ever appeared on the white board, along with inappropriate, the diagnosis would probably be House." she continued.

He grinned widely, never good at resisting a smile when paid a compliment. "What's with the envelope, then?" he wondered out loud, curiosity once again getting the better of him. She handed it to him, turning to leave. "My two weeks notice, see you tomorrow."

House spluttered. "What?!" He grabbed his cane and intercepted her, surprising her with his quickness and agility. "The hell you are, I don't accept your resignation." She laughed a mirthless laugh, then said. "Bye House." About to walk out of the office she found he'd locked it. "You're going nowhere, you owe me." he replied.

"I what?!" she said indignantly, beside herself, eyes burning with anger. "Sit." he said simply. When she refused, he went on. "You owe me two weeks, and before you say you're going to be here like usual," he held up a hand. "I wouldn't have expected anything less from you. But you also owe me a reason, I think. Why are you quitting?"

Knowing she wasn't going anywhere unless he wanted her she sat down, still glaring at him. She made a mental note to file a complaint with Cuddy later. "None of your damn business, you're not my boyfriend."

House chuckled. "I know, or I'd turn that frown upside down. Seriously, give me half an hour to change your mind about leaving." He walked to his desk, leaned against it, facing her.

Now it was Thirteen's turn to chuckle. "Having your way with me in your office for half an hour won't change my mind, House. Besides, aren't you always bragging about your stamina?" He raised his eyebrow again in question at the change in topic. "When did this conversation change into a discussion of my sexual prowess?" he countered.

Thirteen huffed. "What conversation with you doesn't turn out that way?" she challenged. Thinking about this for a moment he had to admit she was right. "Fair enough, I'm just used to me steering it in that direction." Understanding dawned on him. "It was the frown bit, wasn't it?"

She nodded, then sighed. Rubbing her face for a moment with her palms, she composed herself. "You have twenty-something minutes left, and sex talk isn't going to change my mind. It might get you a harassment suit, though. Talk, why do you want me to stay?"

Feigning shock he let his mouth hang open while he thought, why did he want her to stay... "You first, why do you want to leave?"

Her anger flared up again, a moment, but she decided she was to tired to keep glaring at him. "You're the brilliant diagnostician, you tell me." She replied quietly.

"In answer to your question, you're an almost equally brilliant diagnostician, and I don't want to see my effort go to waste." He said, surprised at himself for saying something nice. More surprising was that he didn't feel the need to take it back, he had done a good job with her, it lifted his spirits a bit.

She looked at him, almost lost for words. "Did you just pay me a compliment?" Came her reply, almost breathing the words. Tilting her head as if looking at him from a slightly different angle gave her a better understanding of his reasoning. "Too little, too late, House." She said with more force. "Besides, even if you meant that, it doesn't change the reason for my decision. Unlike Cameron I don't live for your validation."

He laughed at this for a moment while he walked over to her, and set himself down on the floor in front of her. "As hard as it probably is to believe, that was a genuine pat on the back. Then again, since it sounds more like me, I could also say it's a job well done on my part for furthering your education, warped as my methods may be."

She laughed at this. "Warped, House, honestly? Warped doesn't even begin to cover the load, sheer physical and emotional torture sounds more like it." He shrugged, and replied. "Well, it worked, didn't it. Or are you too stubborn to admit you're a much better doctor now than when you started out?" She had no answer to that, he was right about that part. "Let me ask you this then... knowing what you know now, would you still have applied for the fellowship?"

Thirteen took a few moments to think about this, then sighed. "I would."

House was secretly pleased with himself, but kept his face impartial. "Your reason for leaving... positive, right?" Alluding to the test he had made her take, knowing that not knowing was eating her up and preventing her from doing the job she did so well.

Nodding, she made an effort to strengthen her resolve not to cry in his presence, there was plenty of time for that at home, and she wasn't sure she had that many left after the past two weeks. "I just want to live life before it's over, House."

He understood this all too well, he was tired being miserable. "I understand." he said sincerely, and she was taken aback a bit hearing this tone in his voice. Looking up at him, she asked. "So you understand why I must go, you won't contest it?"

Shaking his head, he answered. "I know why you want to go, but don't take this the wrong way when I ask." She nodded assent before he continued. "Why do you think you need to throw your life away in order to live it?"

She sat there, stunned, wanting to answer but ... what? He was right, she'd be throwing everything she worked so hard for away. Still thinking about a possible response, she heard him talk again. "Look, I don't make apologies often, or ever come to think about it, but in this case I'm sorry for being so blunt. Okay?"

"It's not okay, is what I'm trying to say, House. You're right though, if I resign I'll be discarding this life for a shot at happiness." She kept her eyes on his gaze, not sure what she saw there. Pity? Not likely. Concern? Maybe.

"I'll tell you what you think you were hoping to accomplish by quitting, and if I'm wrong feel free to tell me. For once I won't insist that I'm right even when I am." He winked at her. "Go for it, you still haven't changed my mind. But I can say with some honesty that I'm dying to know where your sudden candor comes from." Reviewing what she said she laughed at the morbid play of words she'd used, House joined her. "I see I'm not the only one who uses humor as a defense mechanism." he replied, still chuckling.

"Alright," he began. "you think maybe that your given name, Remy, means you're doomed to be alone; yet you don't believe in the power of names, and rightly so. If names had anything to say about who we are, I'd be called Doctor Brilliant Miser."

She flashed him a genuine smile at the joke, and found that even though she had figured he'd figure it out, she felt certain he wouldn't take advantage of the knowledge by sinking a barb in. For some reason unknown to her, Greg House, the mysterious, the unflappable, the morose, had let her inside his perimeter, even if a little. "Well... not saying you've made your point and I'll stay, it's not as if one has much hope of a social life here, right?"

Greg sighed. "First of all, if you mean sex life by that, or romantic life, or whatever it is... you're gonna do what, exactly? Fuck every guy and/or girl you come across that even looks halfway decent, in the hope you find happiness somewhere along the line, your soul mate? And again, I'm not saying this to hurt you, but that's pretty much what you're looking for, plus or minus the promiscuity."

Remy rolled her eyes, looked at the floor. "I guess. And I knew you had to steer the conversation to sex again, somehow. What're you proposing then, that I show up at your apartment tonight wearing nothing but a raincoat? Because sex isn't everything, Greg, and I think even you have figured this out. Or do you really want to tell me your bum leg is the sole source of your misery?"

Now she'd hit bullseye, and she saw it as his eyes widened, even if only a moment. "Well, if you did show up like that and flashed the goods when I open the door, I'm reasonably sure I wouldn't complain too much." He tilts his head a bit, feigning a moment of deep thought. "Nope, I'm pretty sure I'd let you in. If nothing else it means I can cancel tonight's hooker."

She shakes her head, he really is incorrigible. "While I'm sure you could help release some feel-good hormones, that's only really part of the issue, and it's a temporary fix. Ask Cuddy, she's an endocrinologist."

"It's funny you should mention that," House replies. "ever since the McDreamy moment Cuddles and I had, way back when, I'm pretty sure she hasn't had a man since. Of course after rocking her world she knew that no man could ever compare, so I don't blame her."

And here was the proof in the pudding. "You really are incorrigible. Even though that half hour is fast ticking away, I'll let you off the clock. Talk, you said 'firstly', mentioning I might or might not be easy, and then what... what's 'secondly'?"

"Secondly, a positive test for chorea major means you're at risk, yes. It doesn't mean that you'll actually develop it. And I know you're probably going to say you've had tremors before to which I say 'uhuh, so what?' Be reasonable here, with the hours we work, lack of a proper circadian rhythm, stress, and the record amounts of coffee we drink, can you say with absolute certainty that's Juvenile Huntington's, or just maybe you need some time to unwind? Because if it's the latter, I'll give you your two weeks, gladly, but it'll be paid leave of absence."

She shook her head, this time not in dismissal. "Why is it you're always right, House?"

"It's a gift." He winked, took her hands into his own, and looked at her.

"What? You going to proclaim your undying love to me now, ask me to marry you, because I don't think I can accept. I don't feel about you that way quite strongly enough, and we haven't even had sex yet."

They kept their eyes locked together, and both laughed hysterically for a moment, but she made no move to reclaim her hands; obviously he had something important to say that he needed her to feel he was utterly sincere about.

"No, that's not it, although I won't turn down a good romp with you, if that was an offer." House quipped, and a moment of silence followed in which he thought how to phrase the rest. "Look Remy, if you don't mind me calling you that. You're a brilliant young doctor, so you know even if you were to develop chorea, that it's still some twenty years away, and that it's manageable. And yes, some of the more severe symptoms won't be a walk in the park, and will shorten your life expectancy. But everybody dies eventually, and again it's not even certainty this will be your lot. Don't throw your life away trying to live it."

Once again Thirteen had to keep herself from tearing up, although she felt less self-conscious about doing so in front of House now, should she come undone. "Why are you doing this, Greg?"

"Because I'm tired of being miserable." he muttered under his breath. She'd caught it nonetheless, kept looking at him, it was almost as if she'd never met this man before. This version of him before her was almost... almost what, Remy? Likable. "Huh?" she said, at her own train of thought as much as to prompt House to speak up.

He took a deep breath, another, a sigh that seemed to come from somewhere down at Pathology escaped him. "Because I'm tired of being miserable, and I have no pleasure in seeing you miserable too. Wilson hasn't talked to me ever since..."

"Amber died," she finished for him. Taking her right hand from him, she patted on the sofa next to her, intent on studying this side of House, before it disappeared as it seemed inevitable to do.

He took the offered seat, turning to face her, and noticing she was still holding on to his other hand made no mention of this. She's surprisingly good company, Greg, don't screw this up. Someone who will actually still listen to you after you abused them, don't scare her away now, it's not as if Cancer Boy will hear you out. "And who's fault is that." he'd said it aloud, noticing this he censored himself. "Sorry, I was responding to my inner monologue, although I do feel partially responsible for Amber's death. I mean intellectually I know that I couldn't have stopped that accident, but it was my fault she was on that bus. Jimmy will probably never forgive me for that; of all the unlikely people, she did seem to make him happy."

Thirteen wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, but House looked even worse for wear than usual, and truth be told he had lifted her spirits some. "Not so unlikely, she was practically a female carbon copy of you."

House laughed, squeezed the hand he realized again he was still holding. "Thanks, but I'm not sure I swing that way."

Remy gave him a winning smile. "I meant he'll come around, he can't stay mad at you forever."

House quirked an eyebrow at that, cracked a little smile of himself. "I sure hope so, I'm beginning to dread more days like this. A Rueben just doesn't taste as well when you have to get it yourself."

"Humor as a coping mechanism, it suits you, though." Thirteen replied. House just shrugged. "Can I tell you something personal, Remy? I mean I haven't even told Wilson this, and if you breathe a word of this I'll have to kill you."

She shrugged in return. "You might be doing me a favor, not so much a threat now, is it?" A wink let him know she wasn't serious about wanting out, she did feel a lot better now.

"Well, if I put Ebola in your next cup of coffee, you'd probably think again." He stuck out his tongue for a second.

Remy mimicked his gesture. "I'm glad there's no case today, and with the Hardy boys on clinic duty... at least we haven't been interrupted. But go on, tell me what you want to tell me. Just don't think you have to so I'll stay, you can tear up yonder envelope. I've let emotions cloud my better judgment."

House considered this. "I'm glad, for reasons I'll let you know in a bit. Obviously you're good, truth be told the most promising fellow I've had. That isn't another compliment to keep you here, you know. But I have a point to make somewhere along the line that'll explain why I said it."

A slight blush spread across Remy's cheeks involuntarily. She knew she was good, and given that House did seem to be in a rather unexpected and unusual mood of sincerity, his praise meant more than the empty things men usually said, mostly having little to do with her brain. She knew she had a fine physique, but it's not as if she had any hand in that, unlike her education in medicine which was hard work. Logically she valued comments regarding her intelligence over the usual alternative, lame pickup lines that made her cringe or shudder. Before House could ask her what she was thinking about, she gave a slight nod. "Go on."

"It's about the primary source for my misery. You see while most people think it's about my bum leg, it isn't."

Remy didn't know what to make of that, and a raised eyebrow conveyed as much to him. "Okay, it is partly about that. On a good day the pain is what I imagine giving birth must feel like, and on a bad day it feels like getting shot all over again." As if to make a point he popped a Vicodin. "Mind you the pills do help, but it's mostly a trick of the mind that I'm not in constant agony. I was in the beginning."

She had an inkling that wouldn't be easy to live with, indeed. "But enough a constant source of discomfort that it would make you miserable, I get it."

House smiled. "Well, there's truth to that. But as Cancer Boy and Cuddles will tell you if you ask, I was a miserable bastard before the infarction, just slightly less so. Who knows, for all I know it's part of my winning personality, back then I had women throw themselves at me as well, so it's not all about the leg."

Of course he had to joke about it again, but at least the truth wasn't as heavily veiled behind it as usual. Remy found herself actually enjoying this banter. "Then what?"

"Oh right, I knew I was going somewhere with this." he grinned. "This is why I know you wouldn't have been any happier if you'd left to get your freak on allover town. I was in love once, and through some strange quirk of fate, joke of the universe, whatever you want to call it... I had a girlfriend who loved me back. While the reason she did is probably life's greatest mystery, I was happy. Miserable too, of course, just less often, and less intensely so."

He paused for a moment, expecting Thirteen to say that no way could she entertain the notion of him being in love, let alone someone ever having loved him. When she didn't and just kept looking at him, he continued. "So this infarction comes along, and as my medical proxy she decided to have the dead muscle tissue removed. I'd already told her that no way in hell would I have anybody do that, no more than I'd let them cut off my leg. But, as proxy, she decided that given the alternative of doing nothing meant I could die... well, you know the rest. At least you know why people assume I lash out at everything and anyone."

"You pushed her away because she went against your decision, and because you're always right you couldn't bring yourself to get her back even though you were miserable without her. Plus, I think, you always wondered if she overruled your decision because she was looking out for you, wanting you to live, or because she was selfish, and wanted you to live." Remy blurted out, understanding dawning on her.

"Huh." House was dumbstruck, he was about to say the same thing, maybe in slightly different words. "See, I told you're an incredibly talented diagnostician."

She smiled. "Well, I have you to thank for that. Thanks for not accepting my resignation."

"You're welcome." He gave her a playful punch on the shoulder. "There's something more, though, and it concerns you as well."

Remy arched an eyebrow. "Is this where you ask if I've ever been in love?"

House smirked. "No, but feel free to tell me, I can put what I was going to say on hold for a moment." He stood up, got Bourbon and two plastic cups out of the drawer, and set himself down beside her again. Having poured each two fingers of the liquid, he set down the bottle, she took the cup he held out to her, thought a moment, and took a sip.

"I thought I was once, but in retrospect I think it was more of an LUG-type infatuation."

"Lesbian Undergrad?" he asked, his voice pitched so she knew he wasn't making a point of it.

"Close. Lesbian until Graduation. But then as you move on and drift apart, you realize it was just a combination of chocolate and orgasms that made you feel like that. Or at least I suspect it wasn't the real deal, I'd have made more of an effort, right? Truth be told I didn't feel a whole lot about letting her go." She took a sip. "And before you ask, I like men well enough. I've been known to eat meat, feeling stuffed afterwards." A saucy smile on her face, knowing he would catch the double entendre.

House's bourbon almost went down the wrong pipe at that last remark. "Embarrassed, Greggo?"

"Who, me? Never. No such thing." he grinned.

"I have a feeling though, that if or when I fall in love, it'll sneak up on me. So I see what you're saying about running away looking for it, it wouldn't work." Remy said, her expression almost wistful.

"Sage words, my young grasshopper." He held up his plastic cup in a toast, she touched it with hers. "Ad fundum." Both of them finished the shot.

"So," Remy said. "you said you had something else to say, something that involved me. Seeing as we've already decided you weren't going to proclaim your love for me, what is it?"

A twinkle in her eyes made Greg wonder. Is that her way of asking if I was about to say that? Heck, I like her well enough, but even I don't know if I love her. Not that he was sure how he felt about her, he could definitely see her over at his place as a friend. This talk had done wonders for his mood, finally getting these things off his chest did make it easier to breathe. And if, while she was over eating pizza and talking, he accidentally brushed against her in interesting places... well, he wasn't immune to her charms. He knew he had to speak soon, or she'd be left thinking that was exactly what he was about to say. No way was he about to kill this budding friendship, romance, whatever it was, with a remark he wasn't even sure about. "No, I'm not, but I make no assumptions about the future. I'm a lot of things, psychic isn't one of them." He stuck out his tongue again, leaving her to wonder how serious he was at this moment. "I've been doing a lot of thinking recently, more than usual, that is."

Remy locked her eyes with his again, trying to decipher where he was going, a moment of intensity showed in his cerulean orbs. If she didn't know better she'd have said House did have some sort of feelings for her, regardless of whether he knew himself. She let it slide for the time being, curious as to what he'd been thinking about. "Anything in particular?"

"Of course, I never think about random things except when I intend to think randomly about them." He grinned, but the grin died away as he continued. "Ever since Amber died, leaving Jim devastated, I found myself wondering. At some point in time they probably would've had children. And before you tell me that whatever I may think, you're most definitely not having children with me, I wasn't getting at that. Heck, I'd have a 'worst possible father in the world' mug printed up for myself preemptively, but for the time being that title goes to my old man."

Remy's expression was part shock, part amusement at his bittersweet joke, and part... could she feel sorry for him? He didn't think so, but decided to file away the look, intent on deciphering it later. "It makes a guy think, all I'm saying, when someone close to you dies. Regardless of how well you liked them. I'm not usually one to dwell on my own mortality, given the amount of Vicodin I pop and the weird stunts I've managed, I think you know as much. But it left me thinking what in the hell my legacy would be. Again I'm not normally given to dwell on that, even if it seems to be an anthropological imperative. Then it hit me." He looked at her seriously. "You guys."

"Us? So that's why you reacted so strongly when I gave you my notice. I'm not sure how to respond to that, Greg." Remy was flabbergasted, how does one respond to something like that.

"Well, I'm not saying you're a daughter to me. That would make my earlier proposal a bit too perverted, even for my taste." He said, trying to lighten the mood. They shared a healthy laugh at that. "So, what are you saying... you're not thinking of retiring, are you?" she asked.

"NO! Hell no, as much as I may try to avoid work, I still love it. Just don't tell Cuddy that, or she'll cut my paycheck." He quipped. "No, I have an appointment two days from now with someone we saved a while back. Hell has frozen over, pigs fly, and Greg House will voluntarily have dinner with a potential donor."

Her eyes couldn't get much bigger if she tried. "Who are you, and what have you done with Doctor House."

He smirked. "Well, I told you I've been thinking a lot of late. This guy told me if I ever needed anything, to call him. And as you know, the day Greg House needs anything but a good romp in the sack and a Rueben, the world's come to an end. Seeing as it was mysteriously there this morning, I gave his secretary a call."

"A donation, huh... what does this have to do with me, exactly? I'm not going to show him a good time to wheel in that donation, if that's what you're thinking." She said, half seriously.

House chuckled. "No, nothing like that. I'm not big on sharing." This time he had the saucy smile. "I plan to get him to drop between ten to twenty million on an idea I have for this department."

"Which you're going to run by me, I take it?" She had to give to him, he talked a good game and he'd probably get that donation. What was he going to do with it, though?

"Take the day off, Remy. I'll tell you tonight, over dinner. I have some arrangements to make." He picked up the bottle and stood up.

"Somehow I have the feeling that while you are probably going to tell me what that plan is, if I show up to hear about it tonight, you're going to make a pass at me." She said, not sure if she wanted him to or not.

"I'll try and be on my best behavior, I just think better when there's pizza. As I said before though, I make no guarantees toward the future. Particularly after this chat, I can't say with honesty I didn't like it." House put what was left of the Bourbon back in the drawer, and threw the empty cups in the bin.

"I'll come, but I won't be wearing that raincoat." She replied, instantly regretting it and knowing what he'd say next.

"Huh. I'll tell my neighbors to look out for a hot naked young woman, then... Oh, you meant you were going to wear something else?" House was thoroughly enjoying this game.

"I meant I'm going to wear something respectable tonight, and like you, I make no guarantees regarding what may come. See you at seven." She replied, the saucy smile still on her face as she unlocked and left his office.

House shook his head and sighed. "That woman will be the death of me."

He heard the door open again, her face stuck around the corner. "Thanks for the lovely chat, I enjoyed it as well. Don't forget to tear up that letter." And she was gone, again.

Author's note: So here it is, the first chapter of my first fanfic. And whilst House was out of character, I hope you enjoyed it regardless. Comments and criticism are welcome. I have a good idea where the next two chapters are going, I just need to write them. This one I wrote in about four hours, so the others won't take too long follow.