Disclaimer: I don't own House M.D. nor the characters. I make no money from this.
Warning: Spoilers for season four team, but Wilson's relationship in season four never took place.
Author's Note: I wrote this a long time ago. It's completely finished, so posting regularly will not be a problem. Most chapters are long, but some are a bit on the shorter side because I did a lot of chapter combining a while back. Enjoy.

"What are you doing?" Cuddy hissed, standing at her open bedroom window and staring at House. She was in her pajamas.

"I need to talk to you," House said, peering up at her.

"I have a front door," Cuddy replied harshly.

"You didn't answer." House gave an innocent shrug.

"Which was my subtle way of telling you to leave," Cuddy snapped back.

House looked around at his dark surroundings before bringing his gaze back to Cuddy. "It's important."

Cuddy debated for a moment and then let out a quiet sigh. "What?"

"Aren't you going to let me in?" House asked.

"It's nearly one in the morning," Cuddy told him. "Besides, do you really think I want to talk to you after what happened today?"

"I can't say it out here."

Cuddy would have scoffed at that remark if it wasn't for the change in his tone and the way he couldn't look at her when he said it.

"All right." She gave in. "I'll open the front door."

House entered hastily, pushing past Cuddy. Annoyed, Cuddy threw the front door closed with a slam and followed after him. House stopped at the living room, turned quickly, and went for the dining room instead. Confusion now etched across her face, Cuddy made her way to the kitchen where House had disappeared into.

Cuddy stopped in the doorway and watched as House made his way around her kitchen, opening and closing her kitchen cabinets.

"I thought you wanted to talk," Cuddy said.

"Need alcohol first," House replied and moved to a new location.

Cuddy folded her arms over her chest. "I don't keep any in the house."

House shot her a dubious look. "Liar."

He opened her bread box and smirked as he pulled out a bottle of wine from behind the bread. House turned to Cuddy and held up the found item.

"Hiding it from yourself?" he asked her.

"Don't drink that," Cuddy told him. "It's warm."

"For what I'm going to say, I need it." House tried to peel the wrapper from the bottle.

"Okay, now you're worrying me." Cuddy stepped into the kitchen. "What is it?"

House began to open and close several drawers. "Do you have a corkscrew?"

"Mine broke about a month ago." Cuddy shrugged. "Haven't replaced it."

House frowned at her. "They don't cost that much, cheapskate."

"I haven't needed to use it," Cuddy replied, partly offended at House's attitude.

"Well, I have to open this." House held up the bottle again. "Got a knife to work the cork out? Or I can just break the top of the bottle."

Cuddy let out a sigh. "Here."

House thought she was going to take the bottle and open it for him, but instead she walked to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door.

"Knives are usually kept in drawers, Cuddy," House said, staring curiously at her.

Ignoring him, Cuddy pulled out a few bags of frozen vegetables and two pints of ice cream. House peered at the freezer, unsure of what she was doing. With one arm full, Cuddy pulled a nearly full, but opened bottle of vodka from the back of the freezer.

House set the wine bottle down and crossed to her. Cuddy extended the vodka to him and he took it. Cuddy threw the bags of vegetables and pints of ice cream back into the freezer carelessly. She shut the freezer door and looked to House.

"No shot glass?" House raised his eyebrows.

"You're so desperate, I figured you'd drink it straight from the bottle," Cuddy retorted, narrowing her eyes.

"I have to count my shots to make sure I don't overdo it and kill myself," House told her, placing sarcasm into his tone, but they both knew how serious his statement was.

"I'll make sure you don't overdo it." Cuddy made her way over to him. "Now, talk."

"Well, now that you're being all hostile, I think I'll just take this and leave." House began toward the doorway.

Cuddy grabbed his arm roughly, stopping him. "House, it's one in the morning and I am still pissed at you so stop playing your games and say whatever it is you wanted to talk about."

House eyed her up carefully. "Let's go into the living room."

Leading the way, House limped out of the kitchen, the vodka bottle in hand. Cuddy sighed and followed after him, hoping she could go to bed soon. House seated himself on the couch and opened the bottle of vodka. Cuddy sat down in the chair near the doorway.

"Well?" Cuddy asked.

House took a drink from the bottle, the alcohol cold, but causing a dull burning once it reached his stomach. He looked to Cuddy, the seriousness he displayed enough to unsettle her.

"I think I killed someone," he said, keeping his eyes on the condensation that started around the bottle in his hands.

"You mean today?" Cuddy raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you did."

"I thought I was right," he replied gruffly.

"You always do," Cuddy told him. "And sometimes you're wrong."

House took another swig of vodka. "It's my fault."

Cuddy frowned. "House, I told you no and-"

"And that's why this is my fault," he cut her off, "and not whatever it was she had that we couldn't detect in time."

Cuddy stared at him. "Well, yeah, it was the procedure that killed her, not-"

"I know," House stopped her harshly. He took another drink of vodka and let silence sit for a minute. "When I go ahead even after you forbid it, it's because I know I am close to a hundred percent right. I wasn't today." He brought his eyes to her. "When you told me not to do the surgery, that just made me want to do it even more. So, I just did it."

"You shouldn't be telling me this." Cuddy's voice was quiet, her anger bubbling just under her words. "Go home, House."

"I can't be sure what made me do it more," he continued, bringing his gaze down, ashamed. "Me thinking I was right or me just wanting to spite you."

Cuddy couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her eyebrows drew together. "Why did you come here, to your boss's house, and confess this? To kill your guilt? Because that's not going to happen because you killed that woman. Or did you come to get me to fire you? Because that may happen after what you just said to me."

Cuddy waited, but House didn't respond. He kept his eyes diverted and debated drinking the entire bottle of vodka in one go.

"How many other surgeries have you 'gone ahead with' just because I said no?" Cuddy went on, not waiting for a response from House anymore. "How many people have you endangered in my hospital just to piss me off and not because you actually thought whatever you were doing would help them?"

He looked up at her. "Before today, none."

"Then, what was it about today that was so different?" Cuddy asked angrily.

"You." House had his eyes locked with hers.

Cuddy raised a defensive hand. "Oh, don't pin this on me. If you had listened to me, she would be alive right now. It was your decision to be insubordinate. It was your decision to make sure I didn't find out until it was too late to stop you. It was your choice, House."

"Lise?"

House and Cuddy both looked to the doorway, the sound of the voice coming from further inside the house. House brought his gaze back to Cuddy, his mouth hanging open.

"He's here?" House asked. "He's here and you didn't say anything? He wasn't in the bedroom."

Cuddy sighed. "He was in my bathroom. Taking a shower."

"Needed to get clean after all the sex?" House cruelly said.

Cuddy frowned. "We didn't-"

"Hey," a voice cut in from the doorway. "Greg?"

House looked over to his left to see Andrew standing there, Cuddy's boyfriend for the last seven months. Andrew was in pajamas as well, his dark hair wet and tussled.

"I'm sorry," House started, "but I seem to be drawing a blank on your name."

"Andrew," Andrew offered.

"Right," House replied and rolled his eyes, annoyed that Andrew still couldn't pick up on his sarcasm.

Andrew looked to Cuddy. "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine." Cuddy gave him a smile. "Just give me a minute."

"All right." Andrew returned the smile and made his way back down the hallway and into the bedroom.

"He's staying with you?" House hissed, letting the bottle of vodka clunk on the table as he rose to his feet.

"He's just spending the night," Cuddy replied bitterly and stood up as well.

"So, how many times have you done it tonight?" House asked as he moved towards Cuddy.

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him. "We didn't-"

"Yeah, right, Cuddy," House nastily cut her off. "After all the stress, you need some way to relieve it." He leaned in closer to her and dropped his tone. "I would know."

"Get out of my house," Cuddy commanded and waited for House to move. He began to head to the front door and she followed after. "I will meet with you tomorrow to discuss this. You're lucky the family hasn't decided to press any charges. At least, not yet."

"They won't." House stopped at her front door. "They liked Thirteen and she did most of the talking."

"You just better hope they don't change their minds." Cuddy pulled open the front door and kept in close proximity with House. "Think long and hard tonight about what you told me. Weigh which option played the heavier role in deciding to do the damn surgery. Be in my office at ten with your answer and we'll go from there, House."

House took a step back and then walked out into the dark, moist night. Cuddy watched him for a moment before shutting the door and locking it.

Cuddy opened Wilson's office door and stepped inside. "Have you seen House?"

Wilson looked up from his desk, surprised. "He didn't go to your office?"

"So, he was here," Cuddy replied.

"Yeah." Wilson gave a nod. "He talked to me earlier."

"I'll... keep looking, I guess." Cuddy turned to leave, but then stopped. She faced Wilson. "What is your take on all of this?"

Wilson gave a pitied look. "For once House let his emotions get the best of him."

"Which emotions?" Cuddy demanded. "What is going on?"

Wilson shook his head. "I shouldn't say anything. It's not my place."

"If you know why he did what he did, then you owe it to me to tell me," Cuddy said and stepped further into the office.

"You're pregnant," Wilson offered to her.

Cuddy stopped in her tracks and was silent for a long moment. "I decided to wait before saying anything. I-"

"You don't have to explain it to me." Wilson stopped her with a smile and a raised hand. "House somehow found out and that's the only reason I know."

Cuddy raised an eyebrow. "And that's why he deliberately didn't listen to me? I'm giving life so he has to take it away from someone?"

"You should really talk to him," Wilson told her.

"If I could find him, I would." Cuddy let out a sigh. "Couldn't you give me a heads up on what I'm walking into, James?"

Wilson leaned forward in his chair. "Look, I'm not saying his reasons were right. What he did was awful, and it was negligent and wrong. But, he had an off day, Cuddy."

"That ended a life," she added.

"And we both know that happens sometimes." Wilson kept his eyes locked with hers. "More than we'd like to admit."

Cuddy knew he was right and she gave a small nod. "I have to find him."

"Try the roof," Wilson suggested. "That's where I'd check first."

Cuddy nodded in response and headed out of his office, tugging the door closed behind her.

"Lisa," Wilson called out and waited for her to turn. "Congratulations on the baby."

Cuddy gave him a smile. "Thanks."

Cuddy opened the door to the roof and her eyes fell on House. He was standing close to the edge of the rooftop and staring down. When the door clanked shut, he looked over to Cuddy.

"Wilson told you I was here," House said.

Cuddy crossed slowly toward him. "You didn't come to my office."

House shrugged and looked away. "Didn't feel like it."

"It wasn't a suggestion." She stopped next to him. "We need to talk about this. If you can't make responsible decisions anymore because of something that has to do with me, then we have a problem. What the hell happened yesterday?"

Cuddy waited for an answer, but House refused to give her one, nor look at her. She took a glance around, never realizing that there a was a beautiful view from the roof, especially during fall, when the leaves were a mix of orange, yellow, and brown.

"If you're not going to talk to me, then I can't help you, House," Cuddy told him and began back toward the door.

House looked over to her. "How far along are you?"

Cuddy turned around. "You tell me."

"I noticed the bump even though you're desperately trying to hide it," he offered as his reason for knowing about the pregnancy. "And then I looked into some records."

"Of course you did," Cuddy replied.

House gave a slight nod of his head. "So, how far are you?"

"Shouldn't you know?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows.

"Didn't have much time with the chart," he said in return.

Cuddy made her way back over to him. "It isn't yours, if that's what you're getting at."

"I wasn't." House shook his head.

Cuddy stopped in front of him. "What made you do what you did?"

"What made you do what you did?" House asked back.

Cuddy sighed. "What are you talking about?"

"The baby." House looked down to her abdomen and then back up. "Why did you hide it?"

"Because I," Cuddy stopped, the truth hurting. "In case I... miscarry." She harshened her voice in defense. "What does this have to do with you?"

House looked back over the view. "You sure it's not mine?"

"Yes," Cuddy answered quickly.

"How?" House watched the wind knock a few leaves off an oak tree.

"I thought you weren't suggesting the baby was yours," Cuddy pointed out.

House shrugged. "The dates match."

"It's not yours," Cuddy replied.

House brought his gaze back to her. "Deny me all you want, Cuddy, but that baby could be mine."

"It's not," she said more forcefully than she had wanted to. "Is that why you went ahead with the surgery? Because you thought it was yours and I didn't tell you-"

"No," House cut in.

"Because that'd be a pretty shitty thing to do, House," Cuddy finished. She realized House's protest and added, "so, then why did you do it?"

"I thought I was right," he told her.

Cuddy pressed her lips firmly together. She waited a moment. "And you didn't do it only because I told you that you couldn't."

"Right." House gave a short nod.

Cuddy placed a hand on her hip. "You could be a little more convincing. If we're taken to court- no, if I have to see you every... House, that woman died because you were playing games in this hospital. If you had a problem with me, you should have taken it up with me. I never thought..."

Cuddy trailed off and looked away from him. House kept his eyes on her.

"What?" he prompted.

"I never thought I could lose this trust in you." Cuddy lifted her head. "You've proved to me that you can't handle a lot of things, but trusting you with patients was something I could do even if you broke hospital policies daily because I trusted your judgement. I never thought you'd break that trust. After everything I've done for you. I gave you a job, I defended you on-"

"You gave me this." House indicated his damaged leg.

"Oh, so it's about your thigh?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "I thought you were mature enough to have dealt with that already."

House shook his head, giving his forehead a scratch with his thumb. "If you're going to fire me, Cuddy, then do it."

"I'm not going to fire you if you're honest with me," Cuddy replied. "Wilson said you had an off day and you said I was the problem. You deny it's because of the baby. Then, what is it?" Cuddy waited, but House only looked away. "I don't want you to have to go in front of the board, House. And all the stress is not good for me. I'd like to keep this baby." Again, House didn't respond. "Why didn't you talk to me instead of disobeying me and causing a woman's death?"

"I did think I was right, Cuddy." House hardened his voice and looked back over at her. "You know things can take a turn for the worse. I'll do the autopsy and then we'll know what really caused her death. If it was the surgery or not."

"And what about the 'spiting' part of this, House?" Cuddy asked. "I can't just forget about it. Although, I'm having trouble understanding why you wanted to spite me."

"I didn't." House shrugged. "I only said that to you last night because I wasn't thinking clearly. Guilt can do that. So, I've heard."

"Well, that was a little more convincing," Cuddy gave him, her tone a bit defeated. "This won't happen again. You're on thin ice, House, and it's cracking. You're on probation and you'll have lots of Clinic hours to help get you through it."

House decided not to fight her on this. "For how long?"

"Until I can trust you again," she answered. "Foreman's in charge. He'll oversee what you do and report back to me. Paperwork will be done, procedures will be standard, and I will give the okay on everything. Do you understand?"

"Yeah." House gave a short nod.

"Doctor Schaub will conduct the autopsy with you."

"Fine."

"Good." Cuddy turned from him and headed for the door, the cold air starting to get to her.

"And Cuddy?"

Cuddy didn't want to turn back, but she did anyway. House held his eyes locked with hers.

"You may not want that baby to be mine, but it sure as hell can be."