Lisa Cuddy and James Wilson walked out of the conference room quickly, not stopping to make small talk with the other Board members after the meeting adjourned. They looked around at the bench seating located down the hall from the room, but House wasn't there.

Without talking, the continued on to the elevators, thinking they would find him in his office. The clicking of her heels made Wilson nervous. It's amazing anyone would even bother trying to challenge her, he thought, as he pressed the number on the elevator pad. Alone with Wilson in the elevator, she finally let out the breath she had been holding.

Wilson sighed.

"It's going to be okay, Cuddy. Everything is finally going to be okay."

He said it with conviction. He didn't say it like he was trying to convince himself, the way he had reassured her while House was at Mayfield. He said it with confidence, and while this pleased her, it did little to convince her.

"I hope you're right," she answered, still uneasy, as the elevator doors finally opened.

The halls were nearly empty, as most of the visitors and staff had long gone home. The meeting had taken hours longer than expected and night had fallen long ago. She was good at the politics, very good as a matter of fact, and she had expertly slapped House on the agenda at the last minute, giving the Board a lot to discuss but little warning for actual preparation.

He had been reinstated by the New Jersey Medical Review Board the previous week with his full license. The matter of his job at PPTH, however, was still at the discretion of the Board of Directors. Cuddy and Wilson knew it wouldn't be easy, and the marathon board meeting confirmed it.

They arrived at his office and entered together, finding the lights off and the office empty.

"Great," she said, "he couldn't even wait until the meeting was over. He's probably home with his stupid bottle of bourbon. Do you think he even knows the risks we took for him?"

She was getting angrier and angrier. It was bad enough that he hadn't let her visit him at Mayfield. Ever since he got back it seemed to her that she was doing all of the work to help him get his career back while he sulked around. She was tired.

"Cuddy," Wilson said as they headed back towards the elevators, "he does know you are taking a big risk for him. That's what makes it so hard for him." Wilson was tired of trying to explain House and to justify his behaviors. He was really sick of playing this role, but he couldn't help himself. House was physically as healthy as he has been since the infarction, yet there was still something so fragile about him.

"Well, this has been hard for all of us, hasn't it," she said, leaving Wilson at his office door and heading alone towards the elevators. He shrugged and let her go.

In the elevator she ran through the events of the past several weeks, from House's breakdown to his admission into Mayfield to her efforts to protect his ability to practice medicine to her most recent efforts to save his job. She didn't know why she did it. He certainly didn't deserve it. As far as she was concerned, she had made up for the pain she caused him after the infarction. She had also made up for missing the signs of his breakdown, or for hurting him by adopting Rachel, or whatever else he was blaming her for. Why else would he be avoiding her if he wasn't blaming her for something?

She entered her darkened office quickly to grab her jacket and purse.

"What's the verdict?" House asked quietly, clearing his throat.

Cuddy jumped, missing the slouched figure sitting in front of her desk when she first entered.

"You have your job back," she said, recovering quickly, using a matter-of-fact tone.

He took a deep breath. "You sound thrilled," he said, not sounding so happy himself.

"We fought for you House, and we got the votes. You are back at your existing contract with your tenure secure." She pulled her jacket off of the hook and grabbed her purse from behind her desk.

"Why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad, I'm tired. It's late and I need to go home."

"I know, I know, you need to run home. The sitter is working overtime." His tone was sarcastic, he sounded annoyed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I stuck around to find out if I have a job, and to thank you if I did. So thank you."

He stood up to leave. They were facing each other, their eyes locked on each other, filled with the emotions they had built up over the years - a combination of yearning, anger and hurt that was unique to just them.

Her eyes began to fill with tears. She fought them back. She was not going to cry. She had cried enough the summer after he left for his internship after they made love at Michigan. She had cried enough while he was at Mayfield. She had cried enough tears for him, for this man who was unable to feel, or to admit that he felt. So she fought the tears back. She did not cry.

She stepped around him, but his hand darted out and landed on her shoulder. He didn't know how it happened, how his hand fell out of the control of his mind and just jumped out towards her, but it had, and now she was standing there, next to him, waiting for him to say something.

"Was the meeting bad? Did it cost you anything?" His voice displayed genuine concern for her, for her career.

"It won't cost me anything unless you sc*** up. So don't sc*** up."

"I won't. I am sorry I put you in that position, Cuddy." He spoke with sincerity. He was looking deeply into her eyes. "I am sorry I always put you in that position. I don't know why you protect me. You should have cut me off a long time ago. Thank you for-"

She didn't let him finish. "House, you are good for this hospital, just don't let the Board down." She was trying to let him off the hook. If "this" was going to be so hard for him, then she had decided that "this" shouldn't happen.

He let go of her arm and stepped back. "So that's it, it's all about the work, it's all about the hospital." He was disappointed and upset. He was trying to talk to her now, she had to see that.

She took a step closer to him. "You have made it perfectly clear to me that that is what it is all about. You didn't let me visit you, you didn't come to see me when you got out, and you have avoided me for the past three weeks."

She started to move towards the door of her office when he stopped her again. "Damnit Cuddy, just stop for a minute."

She looked back in his direction but did not make eye contact. "Look, House, I need to get home, Things will get back to normal, we just need to give it time. I'll see you on Monday." She tried to take a step towards the door but he stood in her way.

"What if I don't want things to go back to normal?" he asked quietly.

She looked up at him, locking eyes with him now, unsure if she had just heard what she thought she heard. "Don't do this House, not now."

"Don't do what?" he asked, taking a step towards her, challenging her with his look, with his piercing blue eyes.

"This, don't do this, don't scr** with me."

"I'm not. I'm just asking a question. What if I don't want things to be how they were?"

"How do you want things to be?"

He took another step and was so close now that he could smell her vanilla scented shampoo. "I don't know."

"That's not good enough, House, not this time." She moved to walk around him to the door, but he stepped to the side, still blocking her way.

He grabbed her forcefully by the arms. She was surprised by his quickness and was left breathless by the firmness of his touch. He said softly, "As long as we know who is doing the negating now."

He let her go and moved out of her way, giving her an open passage to her door. She took a step forward and put her hand on the door knob. She hesitated, though, and looked to her right where he was still standing.

"This shouldn't be so complicated," she said, frustrated, finally letting her guard down.

"Maybe it won't always be this complicated," he said, closing the space between them and leaning in for a soft, tender kiss, a kiss which she nervously accepted.

"So you think," she said, pulling back from the kiss, her lips trembling, "that if we give in to this thing, to this desire, somehow, things will be easier between us? Easier than they are now?"

"Well," he said, leaning in again, this time cupping her face in his hands, "we've done things the other way for over twenty years, so empirically speaking, I think we should give it a shot."

"That's where you are wrong, House," she said softly. "Eight months ago that argument would have won me over, it would have made me jump off the ledge with you, but now-"

He understood. Eight months ago, she didn't have a child to raise. He knew that Rachel would change things. He had been so jealous. He had been afraid that Cuddy wouldn't need him anymore. And here she was, explaining it, confirming his worst fears.

His hands moved from her face down to her shoulders. Finally he pulled her towards him and held her tightly, burying his head in her hair. He cried as he said in a raspy grunt, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Cuddy."

She pulled back from his embrace and moved her hands to his face, "Why? What are you sorry for?" She was surprised by his emotion, by his tenderness, by his honesty.

He brought his head back to the crook of her neck. He whispered into it, "I am sorry that I'm not going to make this easy for you. I know you have Rachel now, but I am not going to go back to how things were. I think I might love you. I think that maybe I have always loved you. And even if you say it's too late, I'm not going away. I'm not. I can't." The words exhausted him. He felt defeated.

His words had the opposite effect on Cuddy. She was filled with hope. "House," she said, pulling back so she could see into his clear, watery blue eyes. "House," she said, standing on the tips of her toes and pulling him down for a soft kiss. "House," she said, deepening the kiss, parting her lips, tasting his tongue. "I don't want you to go away."

Lisa Cuddy and James Wilson walked out of the conference room quickly, not stopping to make small talk with the other Board members after the meeting adjourned. They looked around at the bench seating located down the hall from the room, but House wasn't there.

Without talking, the continued on to the elevators, thinking they would find him in his office. The clicking of her heels made Wilson nervous. It's amazing anyone would even bother trying to challenge her, he thought, as he pressed the number on the elevator pad. Alone with Wilson in the elevator, she finally let out the breath she had been holding.

Wilson sighed.

"It's going to be okay, Cuddy. Everything is finally going to be okay."

He said it with conviction. He didn't say it like he was trying to convince himself, the way he had reassured her while House was at Mayfield. He said it with confidence, and while this pleased her, it did little to convince her.

"I hope you're right," she answered, still uneasy, as the elevator doors finally opened.

The halls were nearly empty, as most of the visitors and staff had long gone home. The meeting had taken hours longer than expected and night had fallen long ago. More overtime for her nanny, she thought. Poor Rachel.

Cuddy was good at the politics, very good as a matter of fact, and she had expertly slapped House on the agenda at the last minute, giving the Board a lot to discuss but little warning for actual preparation.

He had been reinstated by the New Jersey Medical Review Board the previous week with his full license. The matter of his job at PPTH, however, was still at the discretion of the Board of Directors. Cuddy and Wilson knew it wouldn't be easy, and the marathon board meeting confirmed it.

They arrived at his office and entered together, finding the lights off and the room empty.

"Great," she said, "he couldn't even wait until the meeting was over. He's probably home with his stupid bottle of bourbon. Do you think he even knows the risks we took for him?"

She was getting angrier and angrier. It was bad enough that he hadn't let her visit him at Mayfield. Ever since he got back it seemed to her that she was doing all of the work to help him get his career back while he sulked around. She was tired.

"Cuddy," Wilson said as they headed back towards the elevators, "he does know you are taking a big risk for him. That's what makes it so hard for him." Wilson was tired of trying to explain House and to justify his behaviors. He was really sick of playing this role, but he couldn't help himself. House was physically as healthy as he has been since the infarction, yet there was still something so fragile about him.

"Well, this has been hard for all of us, hasn't it," she said, leaving Wilson at his office door and heading alone towards the elevators. He shrugged and let her go.

In the elevator she ran through the events of the past several weeks, from House's breakdown to his admission into Mayfield to her efforts to protect his ability to practice medicine to her most recent efforts to save his job. She didn't know why she did it. He certainly didn't deserve it. As far as she was concerned, she had made up for the pain she caused him after the infarction. She had also made up for missing the signs of his breakdown, or for hurting him by adopting Rachel, or whatever else he was blaming her for. Why else would he be avoiding her if he wasn't blaming her for something?

She entered her darkened office quickly to grab her jacket and purse.

"What's the verdict?" House asked quietly, clearing his throat.

Cuddy jumped, missing the slouched figure sitting in front of her desk when she first entered.

"You have your job back," she said, recovering quickly, using a matter-of-fact tone.

He took a deep breath. "You sound thrilled," he said, not sounding so happy himself.

"We fought for you House, and we got the votes. You are back at your existing contract with your tenure secure." She pulled her jacket off of the hook and grabbed her purse from behind her desk.

"Why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad, I'm tired. It's late and I need to go home."

"I know, I know, you need to run home. The sitter is working overtime." His tone was sarcastic, he sounded annoyed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I stuck around to find out if I have a job, and to thank you if I did. So thank you."

He stood up to leave. They were facing each other, their eyes locked in on each other, filled with the emotions they had built up over the years - a combination of yearning, anger and hurt that was unique to just them.

Her eyes began to fill with tears. She fought them back. She was not going to cry. She had cried enough the summer after he left for his internship after they made love at Michigan. She had cried enough while he was at Mayfield. She had cried enough tears for him, for this man who was unable to feel, or to admit that he felt. So she fought the tears back. She did not cry.

She stepped around him, but his hand darted out and landed on her shoulder. He didn't know how it happened, how his hand fell out of the control of his mind and just jumped out towards her, but it had, and now she was standing there, next to him, waiting for him to say something.

"Was the meeting bad? Did it cost you anything?" His voice displayed genuine concern for her, for her career.

"It won't cost me anything unless you sc*** up. So don't sc*** up."

"I won't. I am sorry I put you in that position, Cuddy." He spoke with sincerity. He was looking deeply into her eyes. "I am sorry I always put you in that position. I don't know why you protect me. You should have cut me off a long time ago. Thank you for-"

She didn't let him finish. "House, you are good for this hospital, just don't let the Board down." She was trying to let him off the hook. If "this" was going to be so hard for him, then she had decided that "this" shouldn't happen.

He let go of her arm and stepped back. "So that's it, it's all about the work, it's all about the hospital." He was disappointed and upset. He was trying to talk to her now, she had to see that.

She took a step closer to him. "You have made it perfectly clear to me that that is what it is all about. You didn't let me visit you, you didn't come to see me when you got out, and you have avoided me for the past three weeks."

She started to move towards the door of her office when he stopped her again. "Damnit Cuddy, just stop for a minute."

She looked back in his direction but did not make eye contact. "Look, House, I need to get home, Things will get back to normal, we just need to give it time. I'll see you on Monday." She tried to take a step towards the door but he stood in her way.

"What if I don't want things to go back to normal?" he asked quietly.

She looked up at him, locking eyes with him now, unsure if she had just heard what she thought she heard. "Don't do this House, not now."

"Don't do what?" he asked, taking a step towards her, challenging her with his look, with his piercing blue eyes.

"This, don't do this, don't scr** with me."

"I'm not. I'm just asking a question. What if I don't want things to be how they were?"

"How do you want things to be?"

He took another step and was so close now that he could smell her vanilla scented shampoo. "I don't know."

"That's not good enough, House, not this time." She moved to walk around him to the door, but he stepped to the side, still blocking her way.

He grabbed her forcefully by the arms. She was surprised by his quickness and was left breathless by the firmness of his touch. He said softly, "As long as we know who is doing the negating now."

He let her go and moved out of her way, giving her an open passage to her door. She took a step forward and put her hand on the door knob. She hesitated, though, and looked to her right where he was still standing.

"This shouldn't be so complicated," she said, frustrated, finally letting her guard down.

"Maybe it won't always be this complicated," he said, closing the space between them and leaning in for a soft, tender kiss, a kiss which she nervously accepted.

"So you think," she said, pulling back from the kiss, her lips trembling, "that if we give in to this, to this thing, somehow, things will be easier between us? Easier than they are now?"

"Well," he said, leaning in again, this time cupping her face in his hands, "we've done things the other way for over twenty years, so empirically speaking, I think we should give it a shot."

"That's where you are wrong, House," she said softly. "Eight months ago that argument would have won me over, it would have made me jump off the ledge with you, but now-"

He understood. Eight months ago, she didn't have a child to raise. He knew that Rachel would change things. He had been so jealous. He had been afraid that Cuddy wouldn't need him anymore. And here she was, explaining it, confirming his worst fears. Rachel had changed everything.

His hands moved from her face down to her shoulders. Finally he pulled her towards him and held her tightly, burying his head in her hair. He cried as he said in a raspy grunt, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Cuddy."

She pulled back from his embrace and moved her hands to his face, "Why? What are you sorry for?" She was surprised by his emotion, by his tenderness, by his honesty.

He brought his head back to the crook of her neck. He whispered into it, giving the soft skin under her ear the naked truth, "I am sorry that I'm not going to make this easy for you. I know you have Rachel now, but I am not going to go back to how things were. I think I might...... love you. I think that maybe I have always loved you. And even if you say it's too late, I'm not going away. I'm not. I can't." The words exhausted him. He felt defeated.

His words had the opposite effect on Cuddy. She did not feel defeated. For the first time in a long time, for the first time since he kissed her in her house when she lost Joy, Lisa Cuddy was filled with hope.

"House," she said, pulling back so she could see into his clear, watery blue eyes. "House," she said, standing on the tips of her toes and pulling him down for a soft kiss. "House," she said, deepening the kiss, parting her lips, tasting his tongue. "I don't want you to go away."