Author's Note: We have reached the end of this story, though not the end of House and Sarah's story. I have several people to thank so bear with me if this A/N is a little long.

First and foremost, I want to thank my beta, Brighid45. Throughout the past 8 months she's been my brainstorming partner, my cheerleader, my editor, and my very good friend. And she's put up with a heck of a lot of whining as I struggled with various chapters. Without her help, I don't know if this story would have ever been finished. I will also say, if you have not read her award-winning Treatment series, you are missing out on some truly excellent writing. The latest installment, One Summer Night, is under way now. Do yourself a favor and get caught up with the series; you can find them all easily amongst my favorites on my profile page.

I would also like to thank Laniki, DivaintheHouse, and all the other O/C Babe Forum members for inviting me in and making me feel right at home! If you haven't checked out the O/C Babe Forum yet, you are missing some great fiction as well.

Lastly, and certainly not least, I'd like to thank all of you for sticking with me throughout the LONG process of this story. Your alert sign-ups, favorites, and reviews have been much appreciated.

House leaned against the elevator wall, studying his reflection in the metal doors. He reached up to rub his chin, pulling his hand back at the last second. Leave it alone, he chided himself, shaking his head ruefully. When his last test had been finished, he'd slipped up to Gerontology and asked Bob to trim his beard. The older man had led him to his room where House had settled into a chair, thinking happily about kissing Sarah without rubbing the skin off her chin while the old man went to work. House hadn't paid attention to what he was doing until Bob muttered "whoops." A look in the mirror revealed that he'd trimmed too much, leaving a path of bare skin through one cheek. House had growled and told him to finish the job. Now he was bare-chinned for the first time in years. To say it felt odd would be an understatement. He remembered Sarah's words from earlier and shook his head again. You might look sexy without all that stuff on your face, she'd said.

"Definitely need to make her an eye appointment," he muttered, fighting back a smile.

The elevator stopped and a nurse stepped on, her eyes going wide as she took in House. He laughed out loud, startling the woman as he remembered Bob's advice: "Keep your head down in the lounge out there. If those biddies get a look at you all spiffed up they're liable to grab on, and they're worse than pit bulls when they get a hold of somethin'."

Still chuckling, he ducked his head. He could feel the nurse staring and was grateful for the chance to escape when the elevator reached the fourth floor. He started for Diagnostics, wondering if his smooth face would produce similar results from the fellowship team.

As he neared the Conference Room he could see the fellows sitting around the table. They looked over as he entered and he fought back a laugh at their expressions. Foreman's eyes widened while Taub, Chase and Thirteen all stared, jaws dropping. He stood inside the door for a moment, letting them take it all in, before moving to the table.

Foreman recovered first, clearing his throat. "We were just going over your test results," he said, getting his feet and offering his chair to House. House ignored him, hooking his cane over his left arm and digging for his wallet in the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out several bills and tossed them toward Taub.

"You're on the dinner run," he said, hobbling toward the desk in the corner. He rummaged in the top drawer until he found the Chinese menu he wanted as well as a pad of post-it notes. He scribbled down a few numbers, affixed the post-it to the menu, and carted it back to the table.

"What… what's this?" Taub asked, holding up the bills.

"Usually at a restaurant you have to give them money in order to get them to give you food," House replied, sliding the menu toward him. "Pick out what you want. My order's on the post-it."

"You're… you're buying dinner? For us too?" Taub was incredulous.

"I'll be up in my room. Don't let my food get cold," House replied, starting for the door.

"Wait," Foreman protested. "We need to go over the test results."

"Sure you do. But go get dinner first."

"You're not going to go over them with us?" Thirteen asked.

House shook his head. "Patients don't sit in on differentials." He nodded toward Chase, who was already looking over the menu, and resumed his walk toward the door, calling back over his shoulder at them. "Hurry up – I'm hungry."

When he reached their room on the sixth floor, he paused outside the door. He could see Sarah pacing inside and talking on her cell phone. Maggie was in the room's chair. Her tail began to wag when she spotted him and he hurried to get inside before she could jump down and run for the door. Sarah looked over as he came in, her lips curving in a wide smile. He hoped she'd end her call soon; he was suddenly eager to feel those lips against his smooth face. He moved to the chair, hooking his cane over his left arm and reaching out to rub Maggie's ears.

"Hey, Mom – I gotta go, ok?" she said. "Greg's here and we need to sort out our dinner. I'll call you when we get home." She waited, listening to a reply and frowning. "I don't know… hang on and I'll ask." She moved the phone to her shoulder. "She wants to tell you something. If you want I can tell her no…"

"It's ok," House said, fighting apprehension. She stepped over to him and he reached out reluctantly to take the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, Greg," said Sarah's mother. Her tone was warm and pleasant, a marked contrast to the shrill anxiety he'd heard nearly two weeks ago. "I just wanted to thank you for taking Sarah and Maggie in to the hospital with you. I'm so relieved to know that they've been safe and warm all this time."

"Ok," he said, unsure how to respond.

"Don't worry – I'm not going to inflict another hat on you," the woman said with a laugh.

"That's good," he said, feeling himself relax a little.

"I know you two want to get some dinner so I'll let you go," she said. "Happy New Year."

"Thanks," he said. "Uh… Happy New Year to you too." He handed the phone back to Sarah, breathing a sigh of relief. He waited impatiently while she said her goodbyes. The moment she snapped the phone shut he moved forward, pulling her close for a long kiss.

"Hello to you too," she murmured breathlessly when they broke apart. She shifted a little in his grip, moving away from his immobile arm and resting her head against his right shoulder. He huffed in irritation and she look up at him inquiringly.

"I'm stuck in this sling for another week." She studied him for a moment before settling her head once more.

"You know," she said quietly, "anticipation can be fun too." He fought back a snort of derision, dropping a kiss on top of her head instead.

"Guess I'll have to improvise," he muttered, tightening his arm about her. She responded by gently increasing her embrace; for a few minutes they just held on to one another.

"Taub took care of your stitches?" he asked finally.

"Mm-hmm. I've got a little scar, but he says it will fade." She took a half-step back, tilting back her head to study his face. "You shaved."

"I asked for a trim, but Bob had trouble managing the clippers."

"I like it," she replied, reaching up to caress his cheek. He wanted to catch her hand but it would mean letting go of her. When she cupped his cheek, he tilted his head and brushed his lips across her wrist. She shivered a little and smiled.

"Nice improvisation," she murmured, moving up on tiptoe to place a feather-light kiss against his chin. The feel of her soft lips against his bare skin was electric. Now he was the one shivering. It turned into a wince as his leg began to protest standing. Sarah moved, turning under his arm and slipping a supportive arm about his waist. They moved together to the bed and she helped him onto it. He toed off his shoes and slung his legs up. She hopped up beside him and he slipped his arm about her shoulders, drawing her close. She tipped her head back for his kiss. They spent a few minutes "improvising" before the need to breathe forced them to stop. She settled her head against his shoulder, her hand resting lightly on his chest, while they caught their breath.

"I wish we could just stay here," she said with a sigh. "But I suppose we ought to figure out dinner."

"Dinner's on its way. I sent Taub for Chinese food." He shifted on the bed, looking at the clock on the wall. "The place is only a few blocks from here. Shouldn't be much longer." Sarah smiled, easing back against him.

"Did you get crab Rangoon?" she asked hopefully.

"Mm-hmm. Plus shrimp lo mein, pork-fried rice, and those little dumplings you like."

Sarah chuckled, her hand making slow circles across his chest. "You are a wonderful man."

"Then what are you waiting for? Kiss me again." She laughed, her touch moving from his chest to the nape of his neck.

"You just want to traumatize your whole team, don't you?" His laugh was cut off when she moved forward to kiss him. He slid his hand up to the back of her head, threading his fingers into her silken hair.

They were still twined together when Maggie let out a bark a few minutes later. House drew back reluctantly and looked over his shoulder to see Taub in the hallway, his arms full. Sarah scrambled down from the bed, moving to get the door for him.

"So sorry to interrupt," Taub said drily as he stepped inside. Maggie darted toward him and Sarah moved to scoop her up.

"Did you get everything?" House asked, reaching out to move the tray-table.

"Yes," Taub answered. "Including your change." He deposited a large bag and a drink carrier onto the tray and pulled a small wad of bills from his pocket.

House shook his head, smirking, as he took the money. "Amateurs."

"Whatever," Taub replied. "Happy New Year, House. Sarah." He reached out to rub Maggie's head for a second before leaving. Sarah set the little dog down and moved to dig into the bag. She smiled as she pulled out an empty paper plate and bowl. While she got dog food and water, House began to unload the other containers of food. Maggie began to crunch her kibble as Sarah hopped up across from him. He pulled the last container from the sack and she lifted the bag, tipping it over to spill out the packets of soy sauce, hot mustard, duck sauce, fortune cookies, and several packages of chopsticks.

"No forks?" she asked in dismay, peering into the bag. House tore open the paper wrapper on a set of chopsticks with his mouth. He spit the end of the wrapper into the bag and arched a brow at Sarah.

"You can't use chopsticks?"

"No," she answered, her shoulders slumping. "I better go find a fork." She shifted to drop off the bed and he reached out to catch her arm.

"I can teach you," he offered.

"You do remember that I'm the klutzy girl who was put in swim lessons to avoid tripping, right? Coordination is not my thing."

"You can do this. It's easy. Here." He held out the open packet to her and she took it gingerly. "After you pull them apart, rub them together so you get any loose bits off." She complied and he started tearing the wrapper into chunks.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked.

"Making something for you to practice with." He wadded up the chunks and set them out in front of her on the table. He took the chopsticks from her and demonstrated the correct way to hold them, easily lifting a wad of paper from the table before handing the sticks back to her. He reached over to adjust her grip. "Only a peasant grips that far down," he said, moving her hand further up on the pair. She shook her head, reaching for the first wad of paper. For an instant she had it trapped between the sticks, but then her grip slipped. Her top stick crossed her bottom one, forming an x, and the paper fell away. She kept trying but each time she failed to capture the piece of paper.

"This is not going to work," she said at last.

"Sure it will," House answered, tearing open his own packet. "Hunger is a great motivator." He reached out to easily snatch up a wad of paper.

"Show-off," she muttered, reaching out to try again. He reached for one of the containers of food and opened it, dipping inside for a dumpling. Sarah watched with envious eyes as he popped the dumpling into his mouth.

"Mmm," he said, smacking his lips. "Yummy." He snagged another one, holding it up for a moment. Sarah made a face at him and he laughed. A second later she leaned forward to take the dumpling from his chopsticks.

"You're right. Those are good," she said, smirking at him as she licked sauce from her fingers.

"That's cheating," he said,

"But I'm hungry," she pouted. He shook his head but when she stuck her bottom lip out, he fished up another dumpling and held it out to her.

"Only barbarians eat with their fingers," he scolded when she reached for it. She stopped and he thought she was about to resume her pouting, but then she grinned and leaned forward to snatch the dumpling from his sticks with her teeth.

"Better?" she asked once she'd chewed and swallowed.

"Hmph." He shook his head again, fighting laughter, and snagged another dumpling for her.

House had disappeared right after his last test. The team had stood around in confusion for a few minutes, until Foreman had grown impatient. He'd herded everyone to Diagnostics to go over the test results that they had.

While Foreman rearranged the white-board into two columns, one for potential diagnoses and one for test information, the rest of the team chatted about the weird day they'd been experiencing.

"House was so… pleasant," Chase said. "He hardly made any sarcastic remarks all day."

"The technician said Wilson bit her head off?" Taub asked Thirteen.

"Yes." Thirteen shook her head in wonderment.

"That's not all," Chase put in. "I saw Wilson earlier. He hasn't shaved."

"Next thing you know, House will walk in here bare-faced or Cuddy will come by in a muumuu," Taub laughed. "The whole place will be topsy-turvy!"

"Guys," Foreman snapped. "Could we please focus here?" He dropped into the seat at the end of the table and opened a file.

"Sorry," Thirteen said quickly. "We're a little… distracted."

Foreman had just started to go over the results from the MRA when House arrived. He stepped into the conference room and came to a stop as everyone stared. Thirteen felt her jaw drop. He was clean-shaven. She remembered Taub's earlier remark and stopped herself from craning her neck to see if Cuddy had shown up in a flowered lounger and fuzzy pink slippers. House's lips twitched for a second and then he came forward to the table.

Foreman got to his feet, clearing his throat. "We were just going over your test results," he said, offering his chair. House didn't sit, instead hooking his cane over his left arm and reaching into his pocket. He dug out his wallet and pulled out several bills, tossing them toward Taub. Thirteen's eyes widened as she realized they were fifties.

"You're on the dinner run," House announced, moving to the desk in the corner. He rummaged inside, retrieving a pad of post-its and something else. He jotted something on the post-it, stuck it to the paper, and returned to the table, where Taub was holding up the bills.

"What… what's this?" he asked.

"Usually at a restaurant you have to give them money in order to get them to give you food." House slid the paper toward the shorter man and Thirteen saw that it was a menu for a Chinese place a few blocks away. "Pick out what you want. My order's on the post-it."

Taub looked stunned. "You're… you're buying dinner? For us too?"

"I'll be up in my room. Don't let my food get cold," House replied, starting for the door.

"Wait. We need to go over the test results," Foreman said.

"Sure you do. But go get dinner first."

Thirteen finally found her voice. "You're not going to go over them with us?" she asked.

"Patients don't sit in on differentials," House said with a shake of his head. He nodded toward Chase and she glanced over to see that he was already perusing the menu. When she looked back to House, he was almost to the door. "Hurry up – I'm hungry," he tossed back over his shoulder.

Stunned silence fell. "What… what the hell was that?" Taub asked at last.

"That is as close to an apology for this morning as we're going to get from House," Chase answered. "Here's my order." He stuck a post-it of his own to the menu and slid it and a pad of notes over to Thirteen.

"Is this place even going to be open?" she asked, looking at the menu.

"If there's power, Mr. Lee will have found a way to get food," Chase replied.

"Ok." Thirteen unfolded the menu, glancing over at Foreman. He sighed and nodded.

"Alright. We won't have all the results until tomorrow anyway. Let's take the night off," he said. "We can get back at this in the morning."

"Sounds good to me." Taub took the menu from Thirteen and started to look through it. He jotted down his choices and passed it over to Foreman, who got up and went to the phone to call in the order.

"Things really are topsy turvy," Chase said, chuckling. "Not only is Wilson grouchy and unshaven, but now a chipper, smooth-faced House is buying us supper."

"All we're missing is Cuddy in that muumuu," Taub said with a snicker.

"Oh, c'mon. No one wants to see that," Chase protested. Thirteen elbowed him. "Not that I would ever check out Cuddy…"

"How could you help it?" Thirteen said with a laugh. "I just want you all to stop talking about muumuus before she really does turn up in one. I don't think I could handle that."

"Order's called in," Foreman announced. "They said it'd be twenty minutes."

"Then we'd better go," Taub answered, getting to his feet. "Who's coming with me?"

"I'll come," Foreman said, moving to retrieve his coat. The two of them left and Thirteen looked over at Chase to find him watching her.

"What?" she asked.

"It's New Year Eve," he said. "We should be at a party, drinking a little too much and making out in a corner."

She laughed. "You think so?"

"There is a couch over in the corner."

"And glass walls."

"With blinds." Chase smiled and got up, moving to close the blinds. Thirteen shook her head at him but got to her feet, moving to join him.

"Taub and Foreman won't be gone too long," she cautioned as he dropped down beside her.

"I can be quick," he replied, reaching for her. She moved into his arms, chuckling softly.

"Of course you can," she murmured, leaning in to kiss him. He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, slipping a hand into her shirt and sliding it up to cup her breast. When she drew back from the kiss, she found him grinning at her.

"No bra – handy," he said, squeezing gently before flicking his thumb across her hardening nipple and making her gasp.

"If you're going to keep that up we're going to have to find a room with a locking door," she said breathlessly.

"I know a few places," he told her, leaning in for another kiss.

They were still kissing, though Chase had removed his hand, when Foreman arrived. He cleared his throat loudly and they sprang apart. Thirteen felt her face flush.

"Food's here," Foreman said calmly, carrying a large bag and a drink carrier over to the table. Chase got up to move the files out of the way and she watched them. Neither man showed any sign of being embarrassed. I sure know how to pick 'em, don't I? she thought, smiling ruefully. I guess if it's not bothering them then it shouldn't bother me either. She took a deep breath and got to her feet, moving to join the men at the table.

"Taub took House's food up to his room," Foreman said, passing out napkins and chopsticks. "He'll be here in a few minutes." He met Thirteen's gaze and held it. "If the two of you want to go off on your own…"

"We're fine here," Thirteen said quickly, giving him a small smile and hoping her gratitude was obvious without her having to say anything. "We'll eat with you guys." She glanced at Chase and he nodded.

"Sure," he said with a shrug.

"Seriously…" Foreman began, but he was interrupted when Taub came in.

"You owe me," he announced, pointing at Foreman.

"I don't think so," Foreman replied. His lips were twitching as he struggled not to grin.

"They were all over each other," Taub said, shaking his head as he came to the table.

"Were you embarrassed?" Thirteen asked, delighted at the chance to get Taub back for his teasing the previous day.

"It was nothing compared to walking in on my parents," Taub replied, smirking at her.

"Of course not," said Chase. "The noses weren't large enough."

"Hey!" Taub protested as the others dissolved into laughter.

The teasing continued throughout the meal. Thirteen sat back in her chair when she finished eating, thinking that she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so relaxed around the rest of the team. Chase reached over to take her hand and she smiled at him. She still had her doubts about him, but right now they seemed insignificant. He squeezed her hand and leaned over to murmur in her ear.

"Let's go find that room with the locking door."

"Ok," she murmured back, nodding.

"Have a Happy New Year," Chase said, getting to his feet. Thirteen followed suit, feeling her face warm a little.

"Yeah, you too," Foreman replied. He stood as well and leaned over to kiss Thirteen's cheek. "See you next year."

"See you next year," she repeated, letting Chase tug her across the room. She gave Foreman and Taub a quick smile over her shoulder and then they were in the hallway with Chase moving fast as he pulled her toward the elevators.

In the car he pressed her up against the wall, kissing her greedily as his hands wandered over her. She could feel his arousal and hoped that the room he had in mind wasn't far from the elevators; walking had to be a bit uncomfortable for him.

They broke apart when they reached their floor and she let Chase steer her out into the hallway. She'd gone a few feet before she realized that they were on the sixth floor.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"There's an empty room down near the coma ward," he said, moving rapidly. "I thought it was the best choice. You're a bit of a screamer, you know."

"Oh shut up," she said, swatting at him lightly. They reached the room and she slid the door open, letting Chase half push her inside. The blinds were already drawn and he swiftly locked the door behind him. She backed away toward the bed, laughing as he advanced on her while tossing aside his clothing. Her own clothes were forming a trail as well; she slipped out of her pants as she reached the bed and hopped up onto it. Chase joined her and soon she was lost in the feel of skin on skin, her giggles turning to gasps. She cried out when he entered her and he chuckled.

"Told you," he said breathlessly. Then he began to move, and speaking wasn't possible anymore. She cried out again as she went over the edge and a moment later he joined her with a moan. He collapsed against her and they lay together in a breathless tangle of limbs.

"You were right," she said when she'd finally caught her breath. "You can be quick."

"So can you," he retorted. "And you are a screamer."

"That," she retorted, "was not screaming. You haven't heard me really scream."

"That sounds like a challenge." Chase grinned at her before leaning in to kiss her. She slipped her hands into his hair, returning his kiss eagerly.

"Happy New Year," she murmured when he drew back.

"Happy New Year," he repeated, leaning in for another kiss.

Sarah paced her room in growing impatience. When her cell-phone had rang nearly an hour ago, the red alert klaxon had told her that her mother was calling. She'd reassured her that she and Maggie were fine, explaining how Greg had brought them with him to the hospital. They'd talked about the storm and when Sarah might get to go home, and then her mother had moved on, telling her about the weather in Indiana and the latest annoying things her father had done. Sarah'd been trying unsuccessfully for the past fifteen minutes to escape, but her mother wouldn't take a hint.

When the door to the room slid open and Greg came in, Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. She gave him a smile of greeting, watching as he moved over to the chair to pet Maggie.

"Hey, Mom – I gotta go, ok?" she said. "Greg's here and we need to sort out our dinner. I'll call you when we get home."

"Oh good – he's back. Can I talk to him for a second?"

Sarah frowned, feeling apprehensive. "I don't know… hang on and I'll ask." She moved the phone to her shoulder, giving Greg an apologetic look. "She wants to tell you something. If you want I can tell her no…"

"It's ok," Greg said with a nod. She stepped over to him and he reached out cautiously to take the phone. "Hello?" He listened for a minute, a baffled expression on his face. "Ok." Sarah could hear her mother's voice and what she thought was a laugh. Some of the tension in Greg seemed to ease. "That's good," he said. He listened for another minute and nodded. "Thanks. Uh… Happy New Year to you too." He handed the phone back to Sarah, exhaling audibly. She took the phone from him and said her good-byes to her mother as quickly as possible.

The moment she ended the call, Greg moved forward to put his arm around her and kiss her hard.

"Hello to you too," she said when they broke apart, her heart pounding. She shifted under his arm, moving to lay her head against his right shoulder. He gave a huff of irritation and she looked up at him, arching her brows in an unspoken question.

"I'm stuck in this sling for another week," he said, sounding frustrated. She watched him for a second and then settled her head against his shoulder again.

"You know," she said quietly, "anticipation can be fun too." He made a sound half-way between a laugh and a snort, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"Guess I'll have to improvise." He tightened his hold on her and she responded, moving in even closer. They held on to each other for several minutes. Finally, Greg spoke.

"Taub took care of your stitches?"

"Mm-hmm. I've got a little scar, but he says it will fade." She shifted, moving a half-step back so she could look at his face. "You shaved."

He rolled his eyes. "I asked for a trim, but Bob had trouble managing the clippers."

"I like it," Sarah assured him. She reached up to caress his cheek, enjoying the feel of his smooth skin beneath her finger-tips. When she moved her hand back to cup his cheek, he tilted his head and brushed his lips across her wrist. The move made her shiver and he smiled.

"Nice improvisation." She remembered the way he'd danced kisses along her jaw-line the day before. Wonder how he'd like that, she thought, going up on tiptoe to place a feather-light kiss on his chin. He shivered in response and she was about to repeat the move when his face twisted in a grimace. She moved quickly, turning within his hold and slipping her arm about his waist. I shouldn't have kept him standing so long, she chided herself, helping him to the bed. He toed off his shoes before swinging up his legs, sighing in relief as he stretched out before scooting over to make room for her. He put his arm around her the moment she settled beside him and she tilted her head back for his kiss.

Lack of oxygen finally forced them to separate and Sarah settled her head against Greg's shoulder. She rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath her palm.

She sighed softly. "I wish we could just stay here. But I suppose we ought to figure out dinner."

"Dinner's on its way. I sent Taub for Chinese food." Greg shifted a little, checking the clock. "The place is only a few blocks from here. Shouldn't be much longer."

"Did you get crab Rangoon?" she asked, settling back against him.

"Mm-hmm," he murmured. "Plus shrimp lo mein, pork-fried rice, and those little dumplings you like."

Sarah laughed in delight. He'd remembered her favorites. "You are a wonderful man," she told him, tracing gentle circles on his chest.

"Then what are you waiting for? Kiss me again." She laughed again, sliding her hand up to the back of his neck and moving her face closer to his.

"You just want to traumatize your whole team, don't you?" He started to laugh but she moved in, cutting him off with a kiss. His lean fingers threaded into her hair, making her scalp tingle.

A few minutes later Maggie began to bark and they broke apart reluctantly. Greg turned to look toward the door and Sarah looked over his shoulder to see Dr. Taub waiting outside the door. He was holding a large bag and a drink carrier. She hopped down from the bed and hurried to let him in.

"So sorry to interrupt," he said, clearly amused. Maggie charged forward as he came in and Sarah reached down to catch her.

"Did you get everything?" Greg asked, moving the tray-table into place.

"Yes. Including your change." Taub set down the food and drinks before pulling some bills from his pocket.

"Amateurs," Greg said, smirking as he took the money.

"Whatever," Taub answered, clearly unfazed. "Happy New Year, House. Sarah." He reached out to give Maggie's head a rub and left. Sarah set the dog down, digging into the bag. She was delighted to find a paper plate and empty bowl. She got food and water for Maggie while Greg started to set out the containers of food. Sarah hopped up beside him as Maggie started to crunch her kibble. When Greg took out the last container, she lifted the sack and dumped out the sauce packets, fortune cookies, and packets of chop sticks. To her dismay, no silverware was forthcoming.

"No forks?" She peered into the bag even though she knew it was empty. Greg took one of the chopstick packets and tore it open with his teeth. He arched a brow at her.

"You can't use chopsticks?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "I better go find a fork." She moved to the bed's edge, intending to run down to the cafeteria, but Greg spoke up.

"I can teach you." His words were a bit hesitant, as if he was afraid she'd refuse.

"You do remember that I'm the klutzy girl who was put in swim lessons to avoid tripping, right? Coordination is not my thing," she said doubtfully.

"You can do this," he said, sounding more confident now. "It's easy. Here." He held out the open packet of chopsticks and she took it, feeling apprehensive. There was no way this was going to work. "After you pull them apart, rub them together so you get any loose bits off." She followed his instructions, watching curiously as he started tearing the wrapper into chunks.

"What are you doing?"

"Making something for you to practice with," he said, wadding up the chunks of paper and laying them out across the table. He took the chopsticks from her and she watched as he showed her the right way to hold them. He lifted a piece of paper, making it look easy, and handed the sticks back to her. He reached over to correct her grip, moving her hand further up on the sticks. "Only a peasant grips that far down," he said. She shook her head and reached for the first wad of paper. She pinched it between the sticks for an instant and then something went wrong. The top stick drooped, forming an x with the bottom one and the paper slipped away. She tried again and again, but each time the sticks wound up forming an x instead of gripping the paper.

"This is not going to work," she said, fighting frustration.

"Sure it will. Hunger is a great motivator." Greg tore open his own chopsticks and reached out to lift one of the balls of wrapper.

"Show-off," Sarah muttered. She tried, and failed, again. Greg opened one of the containers of food and fished out a dumpling. She watched as he ate it, making a big show of smacking his lips.

"Mmm. Yummy," he teased, snagging a second one. He held it up for a second and she made a face at him. He laughed and she moved, reaching out to snag the dumpling.

"You're right," she said. "Those are good." She smirked at him, licking sauce from her fingers.

"That's cheating."

"But I'm hungry," she protested. When he shook his head at her, she stuck her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. He shook his head, rolling his eyes at her, and fished up another dumpling. To her surprise, he held it out to her. She reached for it and he pulled it back.

"Only barbarians eat with their fingers," he chided, a teasing glint in his eyes. Sarah dropped her hand, thinking, and then leaned forward to grab the dumpling with her teeth. "Better?" she asked once she'd swallowed the food.

"Hmph." He shook his head again, his lips twitching, and offered her another dumpling. They finished off the container together, him feeding her off his chopsticks. He popped the last of them into his mouth and Sarah put the empty container into the bag.

"So," she asked archly. "The higher up on the sticks you grip the more noble you are?"

"Something like that," Greg said, opening another container.

"So I must be royalty."

"How do you figure that?" he asked, looking at her skeptically.

"I've got someone else gripping the sticks for me," she said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"I think barbarian is a more apt description," he said drily.

"You're mean," Sarah protested.

"I'm mean?" he complained. "Woman, I've only got one arm and I still fed you half those dumplings!"

"Oh, poor baby. Is your arm all worn out?" Sarah reached out to run her hand up and down his arm. Her eyes widened as she realized that there was a wrapped fork in his lap. "Hey!"

"Fine, fine," he said, tossing the fork at her. "Use your wimpy Western utensil."

"I will," Sarah replied, diving into the container of lo mein and scooping some out onto a plate.

Twenty minutes later she slid from the bed and carried the trash to the wastebasket. Greg moved the tray table aside and when she returned, she hopped up beside him, groaning a little.

"I am stuffed," she announced.

"Don't forget this," Greg replied, handing her a fortune cookie. She shook her head, a moan mingling with her chuckle.

"Right," she said, popping open the wrapper. She cracked the cookie and pulled out her fortune. "'Your ingenuity and imagination will get results,'" she read.

"In bed," Greg finished. "Hmm. Sounds promising."

"We always said 'between the sheets,'" Sarah replied, shaking her head.

"It's all good."

"Ok – let's see yours," she said, reaching to pop open his wrapper. Greg snapped open his cookie, pulling out his fortune.

"Hmph," he grunted.

"C'mon, what's it say?"

"'We must have old memories and young hopes,'" he read. "That doesn't work very well."

"I think it works perfectly," Sarah said, shifting over to rest her head on his shoulder.

"How's that?" he demanded, slipping his arm around her. "I don't even know what that means."

"It means that while we shouldn't forget our past, we also shouldn't let it stop us from pursuing our future." She shifted a little so she could see his face. He stared at her, his expression thoughtful. After a moment he nodded.

"Ok, that works," he said, tightening his arm. Sarah smiled and moved forward to kiss him before settling her head against his shoulder once more. "Yours is still more fun."

"Well, if we follow the advice on yours, we can get to mine," she said, tracing gentle circles on his chest.

"Hmph." This time the grunt was thoughtful instead of scornful. "We'll see." He shifted a little, his arm dropping away for a second before he brought it back up, pulling her closer and dropping a kiss on top of her head. Sarah snuggled in and sighed contentedly. Old memories and young hopes, she thought, smiling. That's perfect advice for us, and on New Year's Eve no less. She let her eyes slip shut but fought sleep. We're supposed to kiss at midnight, she told herself. The sound of soft snoring reached her and she giggled, giving in and letting herself drift off in the warm circle of Greg's arm.