First, a caveat. This is still a very alternate character interpretation. This is third in a series. This chapter follows the events in episode 7x9 "Larger than Life." It is a personal challenge to follow canon as closely as possible, adding to it without attempting to remove from it in any way. This is especially difficult considering the more, ah, abusive turns in canon Huddy. As always, this can be read as an AU.

Gender is a complex thing. While current research is pointing to physical structures in the brain that dictate gender identity, gender as we know it is also more of a social construct than anyone would ever want to admit. Thus Dr. House has not been assigned a set gender pronoun throughout. Rather the pronoun and name used in any particular scene is a reflection of the individuals in that scene in addition to the gendered trappings (going 'stealth', for example), and the feel of the scene itself. Thus can the viewpoints of different characters towards Gillian House be inferred. And thus the reason why names and pronouns jump from one extreme to another. In some scenes House isn't assigned a gender pronoun at all. It leaves the interpretation of these scenes up to the reader and enables all parties involved to take from this what they will.

Dialogue and stage directions pulled out of the episode are compliments of the House Transcripts community on livejournal.

This is a work of fanfiction. No money is being made from these pieces. Besides, it is highly unlikely that the owners of House MD would entertain an idea like this one. Though it would be awesome, it remains too controversial.

This chapter rated T for themes on gender, drugs, etc. You've been officially warned.

-00000-

The office was boring, impersonal, and yet full of nervous tension. Dr. House sat across from Dr. Nolan, neither speaking a word. House's good leg bounced restlessly with unspent energy, Nolan appeared the perfect model of calm and waiting. He wouldn't speak until House said something, even if that meant the whole hour wasted in silence.

House caved. "I didn't dump Cuddy." There. It was said.

Nolan nodded and sat back in his chair. "I thought you'd decided to," he said, carefully neutral.

"Yeah well…" House trailed off. "I don't want to be alone anymore."

"Not being alone is more important to you than transitioning?"

"No."

"Than what happened?" Nolan asked.

House took a deep breath before launching into a rant. "You remember I told her I'm trans. Wilson dumped Sam that same day and I couldn't be there for him. He hasn't been the same since. It's the other part of his dating cycle, the months after she dumps him that he's still in love with her and can't stand to be without her. It's a nightmare. Essentially he's not there as a support structure because during all the time we're together I'm the one supporting him. And the last support group you recommended insulted me to my face for not being 'trans enough' because I didn't transition when I was in my 20s. Societal changes and medical advances be damned; if I wanted to be a 'true transwoman' then I should have transitioned before I was 30 because it doesn't mean anything after that." The rant ended with House giving a look of utter vitriol, daring Nolan to suggest another so-called 'support group'.

"And you think staying with Cuddy is going to give you the support you need?" Nolan asked carefully.

House seemed to shrink a little bit, appearing more vulnerable. "She says she's willing to try starting over with us. She says she's coming into this knowing full well that I'm not the man she envisioned and that I never will be. That she won't try to change me into that man. That we'll be taking it one day at a time. And that if she gets weirded out she'll tell me and we'll admit isn't working and part ways, no hard feelings."

"That's… very mature of her," Nolan allowed.

"Yeah, well, she dumped Lucas for me, she said she should at least try to make this work."

"And what do you feel about this arrangement?"

House shrugged. "Between Wilson needing me every moment of his free time and Cuddy trying to bone me every chance she gets I'm really missing out on my 'me' time. And I already have plans to test just how far I can push Cuddy before it gets weird. So I feel it's about the same as everything was before I came out. I still don't have my Wilson back, Cuddy's monopolizing my time, and I have to deal with a two-year-old."

"And if you get 'weirded out', do you have the same right to walk away?" Nolan asked.

House gave him a look.

"Have you laid that out to Cuddy?"

House's look changed to thoughtfulness before admitting 'no'.

"If you don't assert your rights, whether they be legal, personal, or just who gets what side of the bed, no one is going to do it for you. Remember that, Gillian."

-00000-

"You're coming over for dinner next Thursday, aren't you?"

House picked at his lunch, the hospital cafeteria bustling around them. He and Cuddy were hiding out in a corner booth, the snow keeping them from sitting outside. "Your birthday?" he asked.

"My mother's going to be there," Cuddy said. "I haven't told her about, well…" She trailed off, uncomfortable.

"About?"

She forced the words out. "About you."

"I see," House said quietly. "Are you going to?" He picked at his salad, suddenly not just disinterested.

"Not now," Cuddy admitted. "That's why, well…"

Please tell me I'm free, please tell me I don't have to go… House thought.

"I need you to act the part of the proper boyfriend," she said, quietly emphasizing the gender. "Just be nice, normal, civil to my mother for two hours."

I should have known. "You know I don't do 'civil'," House said, trying to focus on the horror of not being able to snark, to poke, to prod, to communicate effectively for two whole hours, probably much longer.

"You haven't even met my mother yet," Cuddy coaxed. "All I need is one good first impression and that's it."

House gave a skeptical look.

"I'll make it worth your while," Cuddy bribed. She leaned over just a bit, tucking one arm under her breasts to fluff them up so they threatened to spill out of her top.

House swallowed, two wants warring for acknowledgement. One want pointed out it was much easier to satisfy and House found himself nodding. He idly wondered if this willingness to do anything for the privilege to grope boobs would ever lessen.

Cuddy got up, declaring her lunch finished. She took his chin in one hand. "The best comes after you meet my mother," she promised. She kissed him and left him alone in the cafeteria.

House licked his lips as the spell of breasts left his mind, leaving her wanting that power for her own. House wondered what exactly had just happened. She flicked the half-touched lettuce leaves off her plate for the pork chop underneath.

-00000-

The loft had seen better days. Recently, the loft had seen worse days. Boxes of Chinese food were scattered around the main room, beers full and empty on the coffee table, and the TV played a movie that would have been vastly improved by the addition of robots to the front row. House sat with her legs propped up on the coffee table, Wilson hunched over and nursing a beer.

"She hasn't told her mother," House lamented randomly.

Wilson took a pull of his beer. "Wazzat?"

"Cuddy doesn't even call me by my name."

"What's she call you then?"

"She calls me 'House'."

Wilson snorted before taking a drink. "That's your name, House," he pointed out.

"She doesn't call me 'Greg', not after I told her, but she won't call me 'Gillian'."

"She needs time," Wilson said, gazing into his nearly empty beer bottle. "Just a little more time and it wouldn't have failed."

House threw a fortune cookie at Wilson. "We're not talking about Sam," she snapped.

Wilson finished his beer and pulled a fresh one off the coffee table.

"If you're gonna turn into a girl on me again then I'm off," House warned. She got up.

Wilson's arm shot out to snatch her wrist. "Don't go," he pleaded, looking up into her eyes. "Don't leave like she did."

House sat back down, taking the opportunity to grab the garlic chicken.

"Thank you," Wilson whispered before curling back up with his beer.

"I don't even think she's told her mother about me," House said, trying to act as though nothing had happened. "And I'm supposed to be meeting said mother at some point, which means she doesn't expect me to go through with the transition. So when I disappoint her again by growing tits she's going to leave me. And I'll be alone again."

"You're not alone, Gillian," Wilson said.

"Well, not right now," House conceded.

"You haven't been alone for a long time," Wilson said cryptically. "Longer than you think."

House looked at him, confused.

"You're still coming to the film festival with me, aren't you?" Wilson asked.

"Of course I am."

"Good. I wouldn't go if you weren't there." Wilson seemed to uncurl just a little bit as they sat back to watch the movie.

"I've seen puppets on strings that look better than that," House commented on the poorly animated CGI piranha chasing a girl in a tiny bikini.

"Yeah, that's it, wave your butt, you might distract it," Wilson coaxed, egging the girl on as the monster fish caught her foot and she tried to escape by wiggling her hips.

Things were getting somewhat better. Still, 'better' was far from normal.

-00000-

'Better' was debatable. The constant push and pull of therapy and expectations, relationship and friendship, work and cases…

House couldn't stand it. One day off, just one. One day to curl up on the couch with a bottle of scotch and a TiVo of soap operas. One day. Surely that wasn't too much to ask.

Apparently it was. Choosing Wilson over Cuddy didn't even help, not this time.

House found himself acting the dutiful boyfriend, biting his tongue, complimenting the food, and trying desperately to say nothing. Nothing at all.

He said nothing when Arlene polished off her fourth glass of wine midway through the main course.

He said nothing when Arlene insulted Wilson's intelligence, however veiled it may have been. He did, however, offer to pour them both more wine. A couple of tablets into the open wine bottle, empty the contents into both their glasses, make sure to tip most of into her glass, no one would have to know.

He said nothing when Arlene insulted Cuddy's skills as a parent.

He even said nothing when Arlene insinuated Cuddy was less of a success because she chose to devote more of herself to her career instead of to her daughter.

But the moment Arlene started into Cuddy about not calling House 'Greg,' implying Cuddy was a slut, calling for his conversion to a religion just because the family matriarch wanted it…

"Okay, I got this," House said, voice dropping dangerously near a growl. "First of all, 'mom'..."

just because you decided to devote your life to raising children like a good little housewife doesn't mean your successful career-minded daughter is any less of a woman than you.

how dare you call your daughter a slut in front of a two year old? Your own granddaughter, even!

you have no right to disrespect my friend like that. You have no concept of what he's gone through the past few months. I've done my best with him but it's never been good enough.

don't you ever call me by that name!

House never got to start any of the rants that crossed his mind. Instead Arlene slumped back, the sedatives finally kicking in. A moment of disorientation as all of those rants fell flat, unused. He had to admit he was impressed that she had such a high tolerance to have lasted so long. He sipped his coffee, self-satisfied.

"Oh my God," Cuddy breathed. She and Wilson checked Arlene to find her merely passed out. She looked back at House, realizing. "Did you sedate my mother?" she demanded.

Wilson smiled and gave a sigh of relief.

"Kicked in just in time," House admitted. "She'll wake up in a couple of hours, be good as new. Think of it as my birthday gift to you. You told me to keep my mouth shut. It's the only way I had a chance."

"Leaving aside the fact that House is a sociopath," Wilson said, trying not to laugh. "I have to admit that I'm-I'm honestly relieved. Your mother is quite a h- quite a handful." His face fell, confused. "What? I feel f-" Wilson's eyes went wide as he figured it out. "Oh you've got to be kidding me. You drugg'd me 'gin?"

"Sorry," House said. "I honestly thought you'd be worse."

Wilson glared. The glare stayed the whole time his head slumped forward, ending on the table in unconsciousness.

"That was my gift to myself," House said to Cuddy. He found Cuddy's look of 'how could you?' hilarious.

-00000-

The case was solved, the mother dealt with, and House was in Cuddy's office sprawled on the couch with Cuddy. "You know, you turned out remarkably close to normal, considering the genes in play," House said, close to a compliment.

"Thanks," Cuddy said.

"Here, in case your mom comes back." House held out a bottle of valium tied with a red bow. "Happy birthday."

Cuddy laughed before kissing him. "You are a sweet, sweet man," she said.

Something in House's eyes closed off. Almost as though he was expecting this.

"You coming over?" she asked.

"Yes. Oh, no, I can't."

"Wilson," Cuddy guessed.

House let her think that. "It's, uh, bowling night. He'll never forgive me if I don't."

Cuddy gave him a skeptical look.

"Oh screw it, I'm coming," House offered, not really meaning it.

Cuddy fidgeted with the bottle. "No, no, no, I'm not going to be responsible for that," she said. "You drugged the man, you go bowling with him."

"Well, my chances of sex are considerably lower with Wilson," House offered. Cuddy didn't flinch. "Fine." He got up.

"See you tomorrow?" Cuddy offered, fishing for a goodnight kiss. She frowned when she didn't get one.

House fumed on the way up to Wilson's office. Being called a man by Cuddy, who House had agreed to get back into this relationship with on the single condition that Cuddy respect her identity, was a punch to the gut to put an end to a perfectly mediocre day. A day of being avoided by Wilson, of idiots in the clinic, of a socially inept child who couldn't even gloat right...

House barged into Wilson's office without knocking.

"Hey, you ready?" Wilson asked. He was just about finished for the day.

House grinned, suddenly happy that Wilson had forgiven so quickly. But bowling was no end for a day this bad. "Here's the thing…"

"Cuddy?" Wilson asked, hiding disappointment.

House recognized the out. It was an easy out to take, play friend and lover off of each other again and leave none the wiser. But Nolan was right. House needed support. Even if that support wasn't strong enough to offer it yet.

"I can't," she said, not taking the out. She slumped onto Wilson's couch. "Am I really doing the right thing here? The right thing for me, I mean? If I can't even get the woman who claims to love me to stop calling me a man to my face then what will transitioning accomplish? Should I even try?"

"What happened?" Wilson asked, disappointment evaporating in an instant.

"Cuddy thinks I am a 'sweet, sweet man'," House snapped.

Wilson nodded. "Not what she usually calls you," he admitted. "When was the last time anyone called you 'sweet'?"

House glared.

Wilson sat next to House, looked her eye-to-eye. "Have you told her it hurts you?"

House shrugged.

Wilson nodded. "If she doesn't know it hurts you she'll keep doing it without realizing. And she won't know unless you tell her."

"You two talk," House pointed out, trying to avoid the issue.

"Not saying it for you."

House stared at her cane, thumped it on the floor.

"I think you should transition," Wilson said. "Think of it as an experiment. Most people wonder how the other half lives, you'll get to know."

Staring blue eyes turned from cane to Wilson.

"I've only ever seen you happy in a dress or when you're having your individuality stamped out by some girlfriend. At least when you're in a dress you're you."

"I was happy with Stacy," House pointed out.

Wilson gave House a look. House nodded before going back to staring at her cane.

"What're you doing tonight?" Wilson asked.

"Tonight I need scotch, my couch, and my Desperate Housewives," House said.

"At least it's not ice cream," Wilson said sagely. And then laughed as he was promptly hit upside the head.

-00000-

"Your friend's right," Nolan said. "If you don't tell Lisa her actions hurt you then she won't know."

Therapy was halfway over and House had splurged for today. She wore a light blue blouse, long dark blue skirt, stockings, corset, and wig. The wig itched from all the hair underneath, a feeling House both hated and loved, hated because the wig felt even more like a costume, loved because it meant her hair was growing back. She paced, letting the pain keep her focused.

"Please sit down," Nolan pleaded. "I know that hurts you. I don't want to see you hurting yourself, Gillian."

House glared at the blatant manipulation. "I get coerced into enough things by Cuddy," she snapped.

"Let's talk about that. Please, House, sit down."

House stopped, pivoted on one foot. "If you dare call me 'Greg' like she did I will hurt you," she warned.

"Who? Gillian, did Cuddy call you that?"

"No, her mother," House admitted, falling into the comfy chair.

Nolan breathed a sigh of relief. Incredible that today getting House to sit down felt like progress. "Lisa had you meet her mother?"

"Lisa was properly ambiguous in front of her mother," House allowed. "Kept calling me 'House', which I was fine with. And of course her mother took to mean we're not 'serious'. Which I was also fine with. I was lucky she passed out before I could tell her off."

"Lisa's mother… passed out?" Nolan asked carefully.

House shrugged. "She polished off two bottles of wine on her own," House deflected. "I didn't slip her a valium until after she'd insulted me, Cuddy, and Wilson, all to our faces, all in front of Cuddy's two year old. The woman apologized to me the day after for drinking so much, but not for what she said. What I did was the lesser evil."

Nolan dropped his head in his hands. "Where does young Rachel spend her time?" he asked.

"Cuddy hired a nanny for most of it. Sometimes her mom or sister fills in."

"I see," Nolan said thoughtfully.

House drew a conclusion. "Rachel came from social services, you want to send her back?" she asked.

"If the elder Cuddy is verbally abusive toward Lisa then you have every reason to worry about Rachel but there's no reason for social services to get involved. I'm certainly not telling you to seek out evidence, but I don't like the idea of Rachel having to spend time alone with her grandmother if she's going to be verbally insulting Lisa. Speaking of Cuddy's mother, how did Lisa take all of this?"

"Furious but impotent?" House offered. "She insulted me afterwards."

"We talked about this, if you don't tell her you're insulted by her referring to you as a man then she won't change her ways."

"I wonder if Ma Cuddy's right, if Lisa really doesn't think this is going to last. I don't know if I trust her to recognize she's hurting me without some sort of consequences. It's how I've always worked. If I suddenly change she won't think I have any opinion anymore. Not a prank war, no. But she'll have to do something for me. And I know just the thing."

"I'm glad you're starting to stand up for yourself, Gillian. But being juvenile isn't going to solve anything."

"Who said anything about juvenile?"

-00000-

House cooked, going all-out to prepare a romantic dinner for them. The apartment was clean, somewhat, the piano dusted, journal articles confined to only a few piles, the bed made and sheets fresh.

Cuddy was impressed, even floored at what House had done with the place. He hadn't said why, only to send Rachel to her aunt and come over for dinner.

The smells were amazing. She could hear House in the kitchen futzing with some presentation or something.

"In a minute," House called before stepping out of the kitchen with two glasses of chilled chardonnay.

Cuddy was speechless and not in a good way. House was wearing a dress, blue and knee-length with short sleeves. The corset's marks were obvious, the tits fake. At least he wasn't wearing the wig but he'd done something with his hair, it almost looked… girly.

"We need to talk," House said.