Title: Puzzle Pieces

Summary: Huddy take on the ending of 'Fetal Position.' Why was House so against taking risks with Emma's life? Maybe because it wasn't her life he saw hanging in the balance.

Disclaimer: If I owned House (which I don't), the ship that sailed long ago would be showing up on the horizon again.

As blue eyes bore steadily into her azure, Lisa Cuddy felt puzzled, but held strong under the intense scrutiny.

"I saved a life. I saved two lives."

She defended herself, her tone firm. It was a close call, closer than she felt comfortable with - but it worked. Emma and her baby survived.

Those ice blue eyes, belonging to one Dr. Gregory House, didn't blink at her affirmations.

"You let your maternal instinct get the best of you, and nearly killed two people."

House was almost glaring at her, and Cuddy couldn't help feeling as though they'd switched roles. Wasn't she supposed to be the one reprimanding House for risky procedures? Since when did he give a damn about the means if they produced the sought-after end?

"In a case like this, you terminate and mom lives ten times out of ten. You do what you did, mom and baby both die 9.9 times out of 10."

House appeared to believe he'd made his point, leaning on his cane for emphasis, his gaze never leaving hers. Lisa silently wondered why this was so important to him, why he was so bent on convincing her that she'd made a mistake.

"Sometimes, point 1 is bigger than 9.9."

Years of interaction with House had taught her that he wasn't the only one who could ignore the usual rules of engagement. Lisa felt solid in her reasoning (of course, if Emma died, that would have been a different matter), and wasn't about to let statistics sway her. Again, she experienced the strange, puzzling sensation of being out of her normal role in the argument.

"No, it's smaller. Exactly 9.8 smaller. Always is, always will be."

Cuddy cocked her head to one side, regarding House more closely. Was that a hint of anger in his tone, a flash of something other than annoyance or pride in his eyes?

"House, in every case I've seen you deal with, you are never willing to accept a death- anyone's death. You're always trying to find the solution that will keep everyone alive."

She leaned closer, gauging his reaction and trying to put the pieces together.

"So why were you willing to give up on this one? Why did you keep pushing the easy way out with this one, instead of finding your usual magic solution?"

The misanthrope broke her gaze, and started limping forward, out the automatic doors they stood in front of; not one to be put off so easily, Lisa fell into step with him.

"Because you could've killed them both. You were emotionally involved with the patient."

There it was again. Anger, and a hint of something Cuddy hardly recognized- was that fear?

She followed him to his bike, imposed herself between him and the seat, preventing him from running away from the conversation. She received an icy glare, but held her ground.

"I don't think I'm the only one who felt emotional about this, House. You invested in this patient- why? Why was keeping Emma alive more important to you than solving the puzzle?"

It went against everything she'd observed in House's dealings with patients. He never took the easy path; always sought full understanding, the complete solution, not half of one.

"Because it wasn't the puzzle that mattered!"

He almost snarled it, and she nearly recoiled at the raw emotion surging through his words. She struggled for a response while Gregory House remained silent for a long moment, looking away, before finally muttering, almost under his breath,

"I already told you why she was important."

He nudged her with the tip of his cane, clearly trying to escape the conversation. The lack of sarcastic comments, the way he wouldn't meet her eyes, set off more warning bells in the Dean of Medicine's mind. Cuddy's brow furrowed, as she recalled the argument they'd engaged in earlier.

She's an important patient.

Because she takes pictures? Or because she's you? Woman in her forties. Single. Using a turkey baster as a last gasp of motherhood.

"Because she's me?"

Cuddy questioned aloud, and felt her breath catch in her throat when Greg's eyes met hers. She never knew ice could burn with this kind of intensity, his blue gaze scorching into her.

Something flickered there, an emotion that they'd both been ignoring for some time now, both engaged in a never-ending dance around the elephant in the middle of the room.

Only now, he wasn't delivering a snarky comment, wasn't moving away. Vaguely, she became aware that he'd moved closer, inclined his head almost imperceptibly in acknowledgement of her question- both the one she'd asked, and the one she hadn't.

"Because she could be you, because you could be her. Damnit Lisa, it could've been you dying."

His tone was low and rough. He didn't know how to tell her, how to explain that every time he looked at the test results, he read Cuddy's name; every time he saw Emma experiencing more complications, he saw Cuddy's face twisted in pain. And as her life hung in the balance, he realized it was the one life he couldn't risk losing.

Emotional outbursts were never his style, but as his eyes burned into hers, piercing her, she saw into his as well, and read everything he couldn't put into words. What she saw there made her tilt her chin up and lean forward, her lips meeting his as his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

And just like that, all the puzzle pieces fell into place.