House, Wilson, Cuddy, and other characters from the series House M.D. are not mine, and this fiction is not intended to violate the owners' copyrights. This is AU, about two years after Season 8. House is finishing up his second prison sentence, but at least is in a less dangerous and restrictive setting than the first time.

Note that a number of events post Season 8 must have happened to get here, including House getting his life back after being 'dead,' and he's back together with Cuddy. Wilson has survived his cancer. But that's another story, and I don't know if I am prepared to write that one; a number of very fine fan fiction writers are doing it. This vignette was running around in my head and needed to be written down.


Visiting Day

"Lisa, you know I don't want a religious ceremony." They sat together at a table in the prison's visitors' area. Like the other inmates around the room he wore a blue denim shirt and jeans. The wooden table was scarred with knife gouges and other markings. The fluorescent lighting was harsh and the daylight coming through the wire-mesh-covered windows was gray with the promise of snow.

"You'd like a wedding chapel in Las Vegas."

"Sounds great. Rachel can dress up as a blackjack dealer. Wait, why don't we wear western clothes and have a shotgun wedding?" House looked pointedly at her protruding belly.

"It will have to be in Atlantic City. You'll still be on parole."

"Maybe my parole officer would make an exception. We could invite him, or her."

"There is no way we are going to have your parole officer at our wedding. Greg, pay attention for a minute."

"I always pay attention to you, mistress." He waggled his eyebrows. "Couldn't we just elope? You live on the first floor - we won't even need a ladder."

Lisa giggled. House couldn't suppress the smug smile. He had always loved making her laugh.

"I'd like to have the same rabbi officiating who did Rachel's simchat bat."

"Lisa," he whined.

"I'm marrying a five-year-old, which is a problem since my daughter is five. Besides, Rachel wants a Jewish ceremony."

"What does Rachel know about Jewish weddings?"

"She heard that the groom smashes a wine glass. She wants you to smash a wine glass."

"Your mother put her up to it, didn't she?"

Lisa shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "It feels like it. Yeah, she must have. But Rachel is so cute, asking. She says that she wants her Papa to stomp on the glass."

House suppressed the sappy look he got when Rachel called him 'Papa,' but not quickly enough. He knew Cuddy had seen it. "She's got your number, House."

He sighed. "You don't mind putting everything together while I'm stuck in here? I won't get out for another month, but that's kind of short notice to plan a wedding. We'll want Wilson, of course, to be my best man. And please, please, no tuxes. Just suits. Of course, he's still so thin from the chemo, and his hair hasn't come back yet. Are you sure you want him? He'll spoil the pictures." House grinned. "How about a surfer wedding? It's just what we need for the middle of February. Wilson and I will come in flip flops and Hawaiian shirts, ladies in bikinis. We'll drive away in a woodie."

Cuddy snorted. "Behave yourself. Remember that benefit? You two both looked so handsome in your evening clothes. I have a picture of the three of us playing poker. If you look like that at our wedding, I'll have trouble keeping myself from jumping you."

"Woman, you are appealing to my vanity. Oh, but the way you looked in that dress. If you look like that, the ceremony may have to be really short… But between you and your daughter and your mother, I have no control over my destiny. Wait until our son is born. He and I will form a resistance movement against female domination…"

Cuddy shushed him with a quick kiss on the lips.

"Hey, that's not allowed here," he said primly, before spoiling it with a grin.

"I'm pregnant. They're treating me with kid gloves."

"That's because you're gorgeous and they're jealous of me."

Cuddy sat back with a smug smile. "Foreman says he visited you a couple days ago?"

"Yeah, he came with Chase. They look well. Foreman started the paperwork to reinstate my license when I get out. It's different from the last time I was locked up."

"I hear you didn't let anyone visit you. Oh, Greg, you must have been so alone."

"I couldn't look anyone in the eye. I tried to apologize. I wrote to my mother. I wrote to you. I wrote to Wilson. At least Wilson forwarded my letters to you." He looked down and swallowed, trying to regain his composure. "But this time, I just went on a road trip with my best friend. Nothing to be ashamed of…"

"It was not just a road trip. It was so much more than a road trip."

House reached up to touch her face. "Lisa," he said, suddenly serious. "Wilson will be at our wedding. He'll really be there."

"Only because of you."

"No," he brushed it off. "He just needed to get away from the hospital, get a little distance so he could think about fighting back, go back to hunting for a clinical trial on his laptop."

"Uh huh," she nodded. "That's not how he tells it. And the judge agreed with him."

"I guess I can't argue with the judge. She holds my b…" He stopped himself. "My fate in her hands."

The buzzer sounded. Her good mood evaporated and the tears started in her eyes. The hormones raging through her pregnancy didn't help. "I'll come back next week. Wilson said he'll come mid-week. Oh, Greg, be careful. Be good. We need you."

"I'm always good," he declared. He leaned down and kissed her swollen belly. "Be good, Bobby. Oh, that's right. We haven't decided what to call you. But you're Bobby, aren't you? Take care of your Mama." Then he gathered Cuddy up into a passionate kiss. "God, Lisa, I miss you."

The buzzer sounded again. She turned reluctantly and walked through the door. House watched until she was out of sight.

-End-