Cuddy finished putting things in to their assigned cupboards in the bathroom. She had decided to go ahead with the move, since the house was in her name anyway and Rachel would need more space very soon. (Besides, since last time House thought they'd slept together he had suggested moving in together the very next day, Cuddy couldn't completely ignore that possibility either.) She thanked again whatever force it had been that had made her sign the deed in just her name, not hers and Lucas's. Back then they had justified it with her being able to get a mortgage much more easily, since to a bank being a Dean of Medicine did sound a lot more lucrative than a Private Investigator. Now she thought it could also partly have been her own uncertainty about the amount of commitment she was wiling to make, to Lucas at least. She pushed the idea out of her mind and picked up the bottle of vitamins at the bottom of the cardboard box, reaching for the medicine cupboard. Having opened the safety latch, she froze. A bottle of Vicodin sat innocently at the shelf, with the words 'Gregory House' clearly visible on it.

She stared at it for a few minutes, then closed the cupboard again, the vitamins still in her hand. She reached for the bottle of prescription medication, thinking of a way to dispose of it safely before the CPS arrived. At least she no longer had any doubt in her mind about who had called the Child Services on her. Right now, though, she had to concentrate on getting through the inquiry alive.

The social worker was scribbling down notes furiously on his notepad. He had frowned a bit at the amount of things still in boxes littering the floor, but since the only excuse Cuddy had given for pushing this inquiry this far ahead had been the move, she wasn't too worried about that. Rachel was sleeping peacefully at the next door, her bedroom completely furnished, not a box in sight. Luckily she had no idea that her future with her Mommy might be at stake, since she probably wouldn't have settled down for her nap quite as easily were that the case. The man whose decision everything depended on stopped his scribbling and lifted his eyes to hers. "Everything looks to be in order, Dr. Cuddy, but that's not exactly why I'm here," he started. Cuddy sighed a bit. "I know."

"We got a very alarming phone call, as you're probably aware. Concerning your current relationship." Cuddy stayed silent, forcing the man to continue. He didn't look too pleased about this. "The caller implied that this man you're involved with has addiction problems -"

"Had addiction problems," Cuddy interrupted. The man raised his eyebrow. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. But, yes, Greg did have an issue with Vicodin, which, by the way, had been prescribed to him for a valid medical reason. He has been off them for a year now though, after spending some time at an inpatient treatment facility for his addiction. All he's on now is Ibuprofen." God, she had made House sound like some sort of a saint. The social worker seemed impressed though. "I have drug test results to back it up."

"I don't think that will be necessary, at least at this stage," the man said quickly. He looked at her sympathetically. "Unfortunately there will be a mark in your record and the adoption will have to be postponed." Cuddy felt hot tears rise to her eyes. She had been so close. "You will stay as her foster parent, and I'll do another check up in six months. If there aren't any problems, you'll be able to finalize the adoption then. Now, I still need to check the kitchen." She hoped he wouldn't look in the rubbish bin. She couldn't think of any place to hide, so she had just buried it underneath all the torn packing material and taken the bag outside. Now she thought that even the empty bin could, in some weird way, incriminate her and make him take away her baby.

After the social worker left without an incident she curled on the sofa and cried. She couldn't believe she had been so stupid. But then again, how could they trust her ability to parent Rachel, when at times she wasn't even sure if she did?

"Lucas."

Cuddy inhaled deeply before finding the strength to talk. "I know it was you."

"It was me what?" God, he sounded so innocent.

"You called the CPS on me. You put Vicodin in my medicine cabinet. You put off my being able to legally adopt my child by another six months." She could hear her voice getting more shrill as she went on.

"You know, I'm sure I can think of somebody else in your life who has more problems with prescription painkillers than I ever have." There was a distinct note of bitterness in his voice, but it didn't make her any less pissed off.

"Don't even try to blame this on House. He hasn't even been to the apartment yet." All she could hear was stunned silence, then the muttered words 'some boyfriend'. She felt the need to defend him, even though she thought that having an excuse not to help with the move was at least part of the reason he had volunteered to take his current case. "He and his team are trying to diagnose a group of school kids with what looks like a very serious infection. So they've all been in the hospital for the past four days. Under quarantine." She put extra weight at the last two words. Lucas didn't say anything.

"I'm going to be changing the locks, and if you do something like this again, I'll get a restraining order and report you to the Board of Private Investigators." She was also going to get a door chain and alarms for the windows, but she wasn't going to tell him that. Cuddy knew she'd never feel completely safe in the house again, but the last thing she wanted to do was to tell him that as well. Besides, she wanted to have all the upper hand she could. She waited for Lucas to say something, but when he didn't, she just slowly put the receiver down and rested her head in her hands.

"They didn't tell us they had gone skinny dipping!" House exclaimed victoriously. She'd gotten a call from the hospital saying that they released the quarantine a bit earlier, but her assistant hadn't told her what the actual diagnosis was. The doorbell had rang just a few minutes earlier, and House hadn't shut up about the case since. Apparently the kids had contracted amoebic meningoencephalitis while on their trip in Europe, and had just been too scared to spill on their secret for anyone to realize what was causing their symptoms until now. Not that the diagnosis was necessarily such a good thing, since the disease was pretty much untreatable at this stage. House seemed completely oblivious to this fact. "But then I noticed that one of them had a bug bite on her chest, which would've been covered by a swimsuit -" His eyes grew wide as she suddenly pulled him into a deep kiss. "What was that for? I mean, I know I'm a genius but -" She smiled and interrupted him. "House… Shut up," she said, pulling him down on the sofa.