Disclaimer: Only Jensen is mine, but I sure wish House were. Cuddy I'd take if the old Cuddy. Current Season 6 Cuddy is even worse than Season 5 Cuddy. Sigh.

(H/C)

House found himself singing as he worked around his kitchen cooking. Yes, he actually could cook, although few people knew it, because most of his life, he'd simply had no motivation to. Cooking a real meal for yourself was a waste of time. But when he applied himself, as in most things, House was far better than average. "Tonight, tonight. I'll see my love tonight." He opened the oven to peer in, then closed it again as the love theme from West Side Story ran through his head.

Unbelievable. If he'd been asked three months ago, he would have bet his entire year's salary against soon being in a happy and progressing relationship with Cuddy, with a side serving of therapy which he actually was finding most helpful. How rapidly things could change. He was grateful for the trip wire that finally had slowed them both down in their dance long enough to get their steps synchronized. And Rachel was a joy, a distinct personality even so young, and to his continuing amazement, she actually liked him.

He paused in cutting vegetables and flexed his left arm, testing. The fingers were a bit stiff, the wrist far worse, since it had been completely immobilized for nearly 9 weeks. At least he'd been able to wiggle his fingers some. He bent the wrist as far as he could, which wasn't far, then used his right hand to flex it on a little further. He knew the range of motion would return with use. Fortunately, it was his fingers, not his wrist, that he mostly needed tonight.

He took a step from the counter back toward the stove and winced. His leg was indeed bothering him more than usual, and in fact, it had been for the last week. He'd managed to conceal it from Cuddy so far, but she'd caught him this afternoon with his guard down in post-cast-removal elation. He'd have to watch that. She had spent far more than enough time worrying about him physically the last few months, and this was probably just the weather, as he'd said. In fact, there was indeed a front moving in tonight, clouds building. Things would probably improve once it blew over. No, he wasn't going to trouble Cuddy with something that was just an inconvenience and not even enough of one to interfere with his excellent mood lately.

Life was good these days.

He heard Cuddy open the door, and he came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel, to greet them. She set down the diaper bag and gave an appreciative sniff. "Smells good. How come you never let on that you can cook?"

He shrugged. "Keeps Wilson feeling needed," he deflected. He gave her a quick kiss and then reached out to touch Rachel's cheek. "Hi, kid." His tone as always with her was matter-of-fact, not a trace of baby talk, but no snark or exasperation, either. He had used his left arm to reach for her, and Rachel latched onto it with her chubby little fingers, fingering it curiously as if she realized something was different but wasn't sure what. "This is how it's supposed to be," House informed her. "They're supposed to match. Hope this doesn't mean I lose all my charm for you."

"Yeah, sure, it was the cast she's actually been attracted to - for 9 weeks. Wasn't you at all." Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Get used to it, House. She likes you."

He turned away to head back to the kitchen. "Got to check on dinner." Cuddy smiled at his retreating back. Amazing how much true insecurity there was and no doubt always had been beneath his rough exterior. He was making so much progress the last few months, though. Therapy was doing him a world of good, the acute phase of nightmares set off by his injury had settled back down, and he was finally healthy again. As healthy as he got anyway. He still looked just a bit stiff, guarding the right side now that she was watching for it, but the threat of rain was hovering in the air outside. His leg always had been sensitive to the weather.

House exited the kitchen again to find her still standing in the entranceway, still holding Rachel. "You know, you can sit down. Guess I should have offered, but I kind of thought after the last few months, the invitation was implied."

"Just thinking," she replied. She started for the couch and looked from it to the play pen in the corner, a new addition to House's apartment decor that probably would have made a picture worth $1000 on the PPTH grapevine. "How long do we have until dinner? She had a bottle not too long ago, so she won't need feeding for a while."

"About 20 minutes. Long enough for an appetizer." He came up behind her, his hands coming around her waist for a quick squeeze before propelling her the rest of the way toward the couch. "Sit down."

She heard the anticipation in his voice and was already smiling as she turned to face him and sat on the couch, holding Rachel securely. "Okay, what is the appetizer?"

He limped to the piano. "I want you to finally hear your song."

Her smile widened. Cuddy's Serenade. For months, she had heard it and requested it so often that it was ingrained into her memory - at least half of it was. But as much as she was learning to reach into his mind, there were limits. She had never heard it whole, and she had envied him that. "I can't wait," she said, and immediately kicked into doubts. "But are you sure you should be pushing it yet? You just got the cast off. I don't want you to . . ."

She saw his expression change and immediately realized her mistake, her voice trailing off in mid sentence. One of the things that almost never was productive was to emphasize physical limitations to House. It always got him annoyed, which was just a cover for the fact that it got him feeling even more handicapped than usual, even to himself. "I apologize," she said softly. "You know better than I do how it feels. I'd love to hear my Serenade." He stared at his hands, suddenly doubting it himself. She gave herself a mental slap. "Please play for me, House."

He settled his hands on the keys and started not with Cuddy's Serenade but with a simple set of scales, testing, feeling out the left hand. Obviously, he hadn't even practiced while waiting for her. He had wanted her to hear the very first time he played it whole. The hand was a bit stiff but certainly workable, the fingers at least, and he gradually settled into the feel of it as he ran finger exercises up and down. Finally, he sat back and took a deep breath, not looking at her now, then began. Cuddy closed her eyes, listening, and Rachel in her lap was absolutely still. For the first time, she heard the full richness of the harmonies, the complete intricacy of the progressions. Beauty, difficulties, hope. She gave a happy sigh of fulfillment as he finished.

"It goes faster than that, of course," he said after a moment. "I'm sure you noticed I slowed it down."

"Actually, I didn't." She opened her eyes to find his skeptical gaze on her. "Truly, House. I didn't even notice the tempo change."

He flexed his left fingers. "It will get better," he promised.

She got up and went over to join him on the piano bench, taking a music-mesmerized Rachel along with her. "It's wonderful. It's perfect. Thank you." She leaned over for a deep kiss, then straightened back up. "Play it again for me, House. I want to feel you play it."

Relaxing a bit, he started the serenade again, and Cuddy once more closed her eyes, this time feeling his body next to her, feeling the music pouring out of him, almost as if the piano itself were irrelevant. Now that he had mentioned it, she could tell that the tempo was slower than what he'd played one handed, that he was accommodating the left hand slightly, but even so, it was beautiful. It was whole. She wished the world could pause and just leave them here like this.

He finished again and looked over at her. "Am I putting both of you to sleep?"

She opened her eyes to see Rachel drifting off. "Only half of us." She was glad to hear the joking edge in his voice, which meant that he was feeling a little more sure of his offering the second time through. "Thank you, House." He reached over to trace the side of her face with his newly freed left fingers, then pulled her head over to his, being careful of Rachel. The kiss couldn't go too far with the baby right between them, but like the music, it was full of passion and promises for the future.

Yes, life was truly good right now.