AN: Fluff isn't usually my thing but since the season finale, I've been plagued with these ideas for one shots and have only recently decided to post them. I might continue this if the bunnies don't leave me alone, but for now it's just a oneshot. Please excuse any typos if you find any.

A First For Everything

It was barely dawn at the hospital. The sun peaked over the horizon hesitantly, as its beams of light shone between the plastic blinds covering all the hospital's windows and decorating the floors and walls in golden strips. The hospital was at its calmest at that time. The clinic and ER were empty, and the overnight patients were still fast asleep. Doctors and nurses that had worked during the night shift were happy to go home and rest while others were just arriving for the day shift.

Not one of them took notice of the scruffy man as he limped out of the cafeteria and towards another destination. He held a cup of freshly brewed coffee in one hand and a cane in the other. His hair was grey, and his face was peppered with stubble. His shirt was rumpled more than usual and the constantly tired look in his eyes was more prominent that day.

He barely slept last night. Partly because the chairs in the recover rooms were a pain to sit in, and also because he was still trying to absorb everything that happened yesterday. It all just seemed so…impossible. Unreal. He have expected to wake up after the one minute of sleep he had and find himself back in his old apartment, alone.

Turning a corner, House walked further until he was at his destination. He slowly, quietly, opened the door before entering the room.

Inside was a bed occupied by a woman that had spent the last fifteen hours coping with labour pains and was only now recuperating. Her thick, dark, hair was a mess and spilled over the pillow like ink on paper. The sunlight that shone through the window on the other side of the room crept over her face, creating a golden halo around her head and making her face glow while a hint of a smile played on her lips.

She never looked more beautiful than at that moment.

Her light snores were the only sound the filled the room as House set his coffee cup on the window sill and took a step towards the chair beside the woman's bed. But a small sound made him stop in his tracks and look down beside him, down at the little bed where on top, rested a newborn baby with a blue cap covering his head.

Looking back on all the parents that had come and left the hospital with their newborn infants, House could only guess what the father was thinking as he stared down at his first son or daughter (or in some cases both). As he looked down at his own son, he figured that a father's first thought would probably be something like this:

…

And following that would be his second thought:

I'm a parent.

Oh my God, I'm a parent.

He glanced at Cuddy's sleeping figure and corrected his train of thought.

We are parents…Oh God.

Aside from those thoughts, House realised that it was somewhat ironic. She had always wanted a baby. Before she had House and Rachel, Cuddy wanted nothing more than a husband to love and a child to adore. And she was willing to do whatever it took to get what she wanted.

House wasn't the same.

While Cuddy was dying to have a baby, House cringed at the idea of becoming a father. He had only one father figure in his life, and everyone knew how wonderful he was (not). House did not want to become his dad, and he decided that the best way to avoid that were to avoid children. It wasn't until he started dating Cuddy that he realized he was wrong. That he could be different from John. It took a while, but he did warm up to Rachel, he even let her touch his piano on a few occasions, and that said a lot.

But there were times when he felt less like a parent and more like a family friend around her. House did love Rachel but when he entered her life, she already knew how to walk, eat, and say "Mama" and "Da". It was like someone had put together a model airplane before letting him play with it.

Staring down at the little pink baby, it became apparent to House that things were going to be different this time. This was a whole other bag of worms.

This was a first.

The room was so quiet, he could hear him breathing. Small, shallow breaths. So faint that he worried that the baby did not have enough oxygen.

House frowned as he rewound his train of thought and looked over what he just thought.

…He worried.

Of course, it was common for all new fathers to worry about their first born. What if she's sick? What if I don't feed him enough? What if she falls out of her crib? What if one small incident now would ruin his life forever? What if, what if, what if…of course, such nervous behaviour was one of the things that made a great parent. It made them care more for their child's well being. But this was House. How could anyone trust him? He could barely take care of himself.

The baby would be using a bottle of Vicodin for a rattle for God's sake!

He could leave. Right at that moment, while Cuddy was still sleeping, he could turn around and limp out of the hospital and never come back. He wasn't exactly tied down to the situation. They were not married so that wasn't an issue. And with the amount of single mothers out there, who's to say you needed a father anyway?

And yet… House could not find enough strength to even look away.

Babies, He thought to himself. Just something about them that makes you feel mushy inside.

Cuddy stirred in her sleep, sighing peacefully. Another moment passed before she decided to open her eyes and direct them at House. Those beautiful grey eyes… He wondered if their son would have them as well.

She smiled weakly. "Hi."

"Hey," He leaned over and pressed his lips to her brow.

She sighed contently. "How does it feel to be a father?"

"I was a father before this too, you know."

Cuddy closed her eyes momentarily, her grin did not falter. "So how do you feel?"

"Honestly? Freaky."

"Freaky in a good way, or a bad way?"

He looked down at the sleeping baby. His little hand, which had poked out of the blue blanket was clenching and unclenching absently. Still tiny. Still fragile. "Good. Definitely good."

She sighed. "Are you nervous?"

"Nope."

"Are you lying?"

"Maybe."

"You will be fine."

"You don't know that." House looked up at her. That tired grin was still on her face and she shook her head weakly, as if she was amused by House's anxieties.

"Who's to say you'll mess up?"

House opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He looked back down at their little boy. "Do you want to hold him?"

Her grin widened. "Yeah." Cuddy held out her arms and House took his time lifting the baby from his spot bringing it to his mother, resting their son in her open hands. If he thought she was happy before, now she beaming. She tightened her hold and held him close.

As if on cue, the baby made a sort of sniffling sound and opened his eyes. They weren't the silvery eyes of Cuddy, but they matched House's own eyes in both shape and colour. He looked up at his mother curiously.

He pursed his lips and gurgled quietly, making him look even more adorable than moments before. The corners of House's mouth perked up.

Cuddy gently rubbed her fingers against the baby's cheek. "Hello, Derrick." She cooed.

Derrick House-Cuddy lifted his hand up towards his mother's face.

House was caught off guard by the surge of pride that went through him as he embedded the memory deep in his mind.

He could not think of a more perfect moment than this… until something better happened.

Feeling his eyes on her, Cuddy turned her head to look at House. Derrick followed her gaze and gazed up at his father. He made the same face and reached his hand out towards his father.

"I think he wants you," Cuddy observed out loud. She loosened her grip and offered the baby back. House, although still unsure, took the bundle with ease and rested him lightly in his arms. Derrick waved his arm out towards House, and batted it lightly against his hand. Without hesitating, House lifted his hand to stroke the little palm…it closed around his finger.

House was astounded. As the baby held onto him, he locked eyes with his father, and if babies knew how to talk after just one day, Derrick would probably say, "Now you're stuck with me."

If Derrick was not afraid of having House for a father, why should House?

Cuddy rested her head back on her pillow, "We can take him home in a few days."

He barely heard her though, his attention still fixated on Derrick's firm grip on his finger.

After a couple more breathes he replied, "I can't wait."

AN: Review if you like it, and if you don't review it anyway because I actually wouldn't mind an opinion on this.