A/N - This is a collaboration with Haddicted, Muna16, and myself (i'mnotcrazy)

We don't own House, but we wish we did...

Also, this is posted in its entirety on the PPTH forum site. If you feel impatient, you can read it there, you won't hurt my feelings. I just ask that you give us some review love either here, or there. Both of my collaborators are on that site, and I'm sure they would LOVE to hear from you!

Also, not to hurt anyone's feelings, but no smut in this one...just some innuendo. ;-)

Chapter Four - (written by ImNC)

House felt like he had been played, and, despite his words to her, he was a little pissed about it. He had seen that damn letter from Alanticnet earlier that day as he had poked around her desk, but it didn't matter; he felt like he had been coerced into taking the damn brat trick or treating.

He made it back to his apartment, and he tossed his keys on the end table by the door, the discordant jangle echoing his ragged nerves. He limped to the fridge, hanging his cane on the molding that framed the entrance to his kitchen. He pulled a beer from the refrigerator, popping the top and taking a deep drink before limping back to the couch, where he collapsed, rubbing his thigh.

He turned on the TV, and he leaned back into the back of his couch. He flipped through his TiVo, but really wasn't in the mood to watch anything. He almost randomly dialed in a show. His mind wasn't really focused on who was dancing in scantily clad clothing a little closer to their partner than they should. It was going back in time to his own screwed up childhood, and what the holidays really meant to him.

Halloween wasn't really something they celebrated. Usually, they were out of the country for the holiday, and most most of the bases he was on didn't have many kids, and if they did, they didn't go trick or treating. The few times they were in America on October 31, his mother tried to take him around the neighborhood, but after he was eight or nine, his father stepped in, calling the holiday a "sissy" holiday, and they stopped celebrating.

He took another drink, putting the half-empty bottle on the table with a soft click, then he rubbed his face with his hands. Saturday was three days away. Normally he would be spending his Saturday nights drinking beer with Wilson and watching the big college game, betting against the spread. Instead, it looked liked he would be getting ready to haul an angry toddler around the hospital.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the cushions of the couch. He wanted this to work with Cuddy so badly. He knew she had been hesitant about introducing him to Rachel at first, and now, she was disappointed that it wasn't working out the way they would have liked. Even when Cuddy was there with them, there was a glacial chill between them, with Cuddy stuck in the middle. He knew, if push came to shove, if she had to choose between them, Rachel, rightfully so, would win out.

Not that either of them would give up without a fight.

He was worried that Cuddy's disappointment would grow into resentment, and that resentment would become small nails in the coffin that would house the ashes of their relationship. He chewed on his lip at that thought. He was happy; happier than he had been in a long, long time, and, despite the cold war being waged by he and her kid, she was happy, too. He didn't want to be the cause of the downfall of that happiness.

So, in an effort to keep them both he and Cuddy happy, and in bed with each other, he would parade her daughter around the hospital Saturday night with the children of other doctors and staff, as well as some of the healthier pediatrics patients, begging for candy and treats from people he schemed against and blackmailed every day.

Someone was going to make a killing on a bet for this, he just had a feeling.

He sat there on his couch for the next few hours, pretending to watch television, when a small, hesitant tap roused him from his thoughts. With a groan, he stood up, his thigh protesting with the effort. "Damn it," he growled. "I'm coming. Gotta give extra time to cripples, ya know," he grumbled.

He opened the door, and he wasn't surprised to see Cuddy standing there, a long, wool coat. He lifted a grizzled eyebrow in question, then stepped back, allowing her entrance to his apartment. He glanced at the clock, figuring Marina was probably not off duty tonight until nine, which meant Cuddy had wanted some alone time tonight.

"I.." she began, glancing around nervously. "I didn't mean for you to feel trapped earlier today," she sighed.

He shrugged. "I didn't feel..."

She shook her head, stepping into him, pressing a kiss to his lips to shut him up. "Don't. Don't start this again. If we don't talk about what's wrong, we're going to doom ourselves to failure." She gave him a small smile. "And I know you hate self-fulfilling prophesies."

He gave her a small smirk. "I hate prophesies in general, unless..." He pressed his thumb to the center of his forehead, closing his eyes and furrowing his brow as if he was deep in thought. "I see you getting naked in about ten minutes."

"You wish." She rolled her eyes. "Wilson's offer to take her still stands, if you want to back out." He face became grave and cold, but she forged through. "I won't think any less of you for not wanting to do this," she told him, softly but firmly.

He sighed. "I know." He pulled her into a tight embrace. "I want to show you that I can make an effort with her," he softly kissed her hair. "After all, I was the one who pushed you into letting me into her life more." She smiled against him, feeling his thumb tracing small circles over the small of her back. "Besides, if she becomes too much, I can just hand her off to my team for a few minutes. Chase is pretty enough to have baby-sat his way through high school." He frowned against her. "Damn, I wish Cameron was still around. She would have taken the kid in an instant."

Cuddy chuckled, and he could feel her vibrations through their layers of clothes and denials. He wanted to prove to her that he could be the man she needed in her life, but somehow, he always thought he was going to fall short. He hated that; she made him a better man. She lifted her chin up, and he caught a look of both humor and worry in those smokey eyes. "Your team members are not babysitters," she responded, a wry look in her eye.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. "What good are they, then, if I can't exploit them?" he huffed.

"You exploit them every day." she retorted. "Why do you think HR has a special form for applicants specifically being hired for your department."

"I know," he, grinned, pressing his forehead to hers. "It's full of all sorts of clauses that won't allow them to sue you or me."

A few heart beats of silence formed between them. "Are you sure you want to do this for me," she asked, still concerned.

"What, get you naked. Oh yeah," he gave her a lecherous grin.

"No, you idiot," she smacked him lightly. "Take Rachel around the hospital."

"I don't really have a choice, do I?"

She gave him a small smile. "You always have a choice. I won't be mad at you, no matter what choice you make."

He gave her a wry look. "I said I'd do it," he told her, nuzzling her, "so, I'll do it." He captured her lips with his, and he lightly tugged her hand in the direction of the bedroom. "You still have 5 minutes to fulfill my prophesy," he grinned at her, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

She laughed. "Let's go, hot shot. I've only got another hour 'til Marina leaves, anyway." She gave him an appraising look. "I'll have plenty of time to get home."

She sauntered down the short hallway, and he let her words sink in. His smile faltered. He limped after, quickly. "I'm gonna make you pay for that," he growled, shutting the door behind them.