Hi guys! :D

This is (as mentioned in the summary) a three chapters story. I always thought that there's been a blank between Cuddy's injections to get pregnant and the episode where she tells Wilson that she miscarried. So this is an attempt to fill it. I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you Lisa for revising it :*

.1.

Cuddy entered his office with faked confidence, her shoulders straight and her head proudly raised. She opened the door after a deep inspiration that no one would've noticed and cleared her throat to announce her presence as he didn't seem to notice it. Or so he let appear. House looked up at her, slowly analyzing her silhouette before locking his inquisitor gaze with hers. He could tell by her way of fiddling with her fingers that she was nervous, anxious even.

She tried a frozen smile to gain some confidence but that only looked like a wince, she was sure. She'd thought about it all day, analyzing the question and considering every outcome of it. But, in fact, all she feared was his reaction. She was pretty damn sure that she couldn't handle a rejection, just as she was sure that she wanted to ask him to father her baby. Not that she expected anything from him.

Find someone you like, he'd told her when she asked him to help her. It'd put all her plans upside down, changing her perception of the process and had made her reconsider her vision about the whole thing. It'd grown much more difficult than she'd actually guessed it would be, but she couldn't deny that he was right. An anonymous donor was too much of a risk to take, and he'd proved her that.

Genes matter. His words had stuck in her mind all the day, and there she was, trying to ask him that one question that she knew would change everything. But all she could do for the moment was looking at him, unable to say a word. God, she wanted a baby. A baby like him. And she couldn't fully convince herself that it was only because he had good genes – almost all of them were good, at least.

"You maybe want to say something?" House said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

He was insistently looking at her, confused and intrigued. He'd guessed what her mouth didn't seem to want to express, though. But he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it either, nor he did want to answer it. He didn't know if he even had the answer. But his curiosity was beyond his hesitation.

"Uh… Yes." She nervously bit her lips, her fingers still twisted in an anxious way. He could see her breathe deeply, her chest moving to the rhythm of her respiration. "Thank you for the injection," Cuddy said afterward, trying to keep her gaze locked to his and make it sound like it was the only thing she came to say.

"Thank you for letting me stare at your ass," House retorted, hiding his confusion behind his habitual ass-hood.

"Ass," she teased him back, relaxing a bit. There were seconds where they shared unspoken words before Cuddy broke eye-contact and started to make her way to where she came from.

"I hope your donor is worth my devotion," he added before she could reach the glass door.

She turned back at him, and he didn't like the sad look she had in her eyes. "There is no donor."

The frown that began to appear on House's face was now emphasized and a quizzical look replaced the playful one he had earlier.

"You were right, this is ridiculous," Cuddy explained, letting her arms fall along her silhouette. "The anonymous donor wasn't a good deal."

"I also said that you might want to find someone you liked," he reminded her, disconcerted. He was settling correctly in his chair now, fully alert.

"Well, I don't like anyone enough to let him father my baby," she lied. The more she considered it, the more she was convinced that even though she wanted to ask him, that'd be impossible.

"There are a lot of nice guys that …" House tried to argue, but he shut up and just shrugged.

"Maybe I don't want a nice guy," Cuddy countered, turning her head to the left and biting her lower lip. She hoped what she insinuated wasn't that obvious.

"What a mess, I was about to propose myself," he said, feigning genuine disappointment as she looked back at him, smiling at his sarcasm. She was glad he tried to cool down the atmosphere.

"What a pity!" she quipped, entering his game. "Seems like I'm just going to give up," Cuddy added, this time her voice tainted by sadness and deception. She looked at her shoes, not able to face his piercing eyes, she didn't want him to see her moistened eyes. Swallowing hard to recollect herself, she looked up again, meeting his gaze. He didn't move.

Her implicit request had surprised him, though he somewhat expected it. The thing he wasn't able to understand was why him. Among all the great potential donors that she had, why especially him? There was something intriguing about that. He knew that he wasn't the best choice for a relationship, the idea of fathering a child was just unconceivable. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

Cuddy herself didn't know why she wanted such a thing, the sole idea of imagining it seemed to be ridiculously hilarious now that she thought about it again. He wasn't able to handle such a responsibility, and she wasn't sure that if they did have a baby, she'd want to raise him alone while she'd see his father every day. It was way too complicated, at the end. She was glad she didn't ask him, her mind had been too muddled by the harsh want of having a baby, she'd been too impulsive and now, she was just happy she didn't go through it till the end. She could bet he was, too.

"Well, I have lots of work to do … I … Will go," she said as he didn't say a thing, keeping looking at her as she tried not to fall apart in front of him.

"Yeah," she heard him murmur, not really convinced. She offered him a slight smile and made her way outside his office, leaving him to his occupations.

House looked at her silhouette till she disappeared to his view. He glanced at the tiny clock on his desk and judged it was time to go. Actually, it has been far long ago. He got up, knowing he wouldn't find sleep this night, too. His mind wouldn't allow him to, and an awkward feeling in his chest told him it would certainly not.

He sighed, wishing he could just ignore it as he did most of the time, but it was useless. Putting on his leather jacket, he popped the top of the amber bottle and took two Vicodin from it before dry-swallowing them. With that, he headed out of the office, turning the light off on his way to the parking lot.

TBC…