Disclaimer: I don't own any part of House MD and in no way profit from the writing of this fan fic.

About this chapter: This chapter follows up a little bit on the photograph Cuddy had been looking at, and adds some dialogue between House and Cuddy! Yay! The chapters following this will be focused more on the fact that Cuddy will be pregnant, with some unexpected events!

House sat alone in the dark shadows of his office. He cradled the red and gray tennis ball in his hands.

Slowly he tossed it back and forth, without taking his eyes off of it once.

It was after hours.

There was no case to solve.

There was no autopsy to perform.

House was merely an unimportant outline against the wall, undiscovered, alone, lost in thoughts that no one else could hear.

There was nothing left in the hospital for him to stay for, nothing at home either, but for some reason House remained seated in his office, silently suffering from the constant, burning pain in his leg.

He looked up only when he heard the slow, persistent echo of clicking heels against the linoleum floor.

The door to his office opened tentatively, and she appeared, suddenly, in the middle of the room.

"Why are you still here?" Cuddy's question was out of curiosity, not annoyance.

The room was silent for a brief, lingering moment, only to be interrupted by the sarcastic remark of the diagnostician.

"My TV broke, and 'coma-guy' doesn't have cable so I've settled for downloading --"

"Why are you really here?" She cut him off, "You don't have a case."

"I know."

"So..." Cuddy came around his desk and sat down on the surface of it. "Then what's up?"

House held the tennis ball in his left hand, and then set it down on the desk.

The room was once again filled with the throbbing rhythm of complete silence.

"I'm sorry." He announced in a monotone, redirecting the conversation.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Cuddy couldn't remember the last time she had heard House say that to her, or to anyone. Why he had, so suddenly, was unclear.

"For what?" She choked in a small voice.

He inhaled quietly, "The photo album," He began. "You had it out, this morning."

She nodded hesitantly.

"You were crying, before I came in." He reminded her.

Her cheeks flushed. "No, I - "

"So," House cut her off, searching her eyes, "I'm sorry."

Cuddy could feel her face burn. She hadn't been aware of the fact that she had been crying. Her throat tightened around the words she planned to say, strangling them inside of her.

"Oh." She managed to breathe. "Yeah."

She bit her lower lip anxiously, hoping House didn't know what exactly it was she had been looking at. She felt pathetic, but hoped her face didn't give it away.

House nodded awkwardly. "Yeah."

Cuddy stood up to leave. Embarrassed. She didn't want to think about the past any longer. But everything about the man in the room with her now, was reminding her of it.

"Wait."

She heard his voice command.

"What were you looking at?"

Cuddy was gripping the photo in her hand but had no intention of showing it to him. Her fingers were stiff from holding onto it, and she had forgotten it was even there.

She turned around cautiously, "Nothing."

It was a bitter word, and the way she delivered it offered no room for further questions.

She then rushed out of his office, her heart beating too fast for her own good.

House listened as the click of her heels became distant now, making their way to the elevators at a rapid pace.

He pushed himself, hastily, up from the chair, wincing at the knife of pain that sliced through his leg.

He grabbed for his cane and staggered to meet her before the doors closed.

"No." He declared. His cane forbade the doors to connect, "What was it?" He stood halfway inside the elevator, but still blocked the pathway necessary for it to close.

"That's none of your business, House. It was nothing. Nothing important. Now, I've been here long enough. And I'm going home."

She said every word with definition. There was a certain force behind each syllable that made it clear she didn't want him standing there.

She jabbed the 'close door' button again, but it was no use, he stepped inside the elevator and allowed the doors to shut before he spoke.

Cuddy could feel the anger thrust inside of her, threatening to shatter her composure. She so should have taken the stairs.

"It was important." House contradicted.

Cuddy didn't respond to his comment, she chose only to react to the sound announcing their arrival at the parking garage.

She dashed from the elevator and bolted to her car in a swift direct movement, leaving House nearly stumbling over his feet after her.

"Go away."

She demanded acidly, without turning around or slowing her gate. "Go home."

"What was the picture of?" He pried.

She was at her car now, fumbling in her purse for the keys. Her hands were shaking, either from rage, or the fact that she felt painfully humiliated.

The keys emerged from her bag and she was unlocking the doors immediately.

"No. Go away." She repeated, giving each word the chance to sink in.

She had one hand on the door handle, prepared to rip open the door and hit the gas pedal the second she was landed behind the wheel. She was fed up with his constant interrogations and needed to get away.

Without warning, House gripped her wrist, causing her let out a small yelp, not of pain but of shock.

House yanked her toward him, twisted her away from the car to face him.

He burned his eyes into hers, but loosened his grip.

Cuddy swallowed hard, and tried to look away from his eyes, but she found it was a useless struggle, she couldn't.

She hated that he could control her like that.

House noticed the tiny piece of paper she had clenched between her fingers.

"Is that it?" His voice was low, calmer.

"Is it what? What ar-"

He took the photograph from her hand before she had the chance to comprehend was he was referring to.

The heart beating inside of her created a faint, distant, thudding that became more and more audible as she watched him study the photo.

For a second Cuddy forgot everything around her, it was just herself, House, and the past. Nothing else in the world interrupted her thoughts for a few terrifying seconds.

Her breathing became somewhat more erratic, and she ripped herself free of his hold, which was easier than she had planned for. But she remained standing in front of him, observing his reaction.

A small, distant smile appeared on his face.

"I remember that night." He muttered to himself, almost too quiet for her to hear.

Cuddy felt her heart come to a complete stop. She wanted more than anything to disappear. She had already relived the memory on her own, by herself, in her office, and now she had to right in front of him.

She let out a small sigh.

House removed his eyes from the photo.

"I miss that sometimes." He muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

He had caught her completely off guard with that one. She wasn't sure if he had even intended for her to hear it.

Cuddy opened her mouth, but the only word she could bring herself to say was,

"Goodnight."

She tumbled into the driver's seat. Slamming the door.

Her quivering hand shot the key into the ignition, and she took off, escaping the parking lot seconds later.

Her breath was uneven and hurried as she sped out of the lot and around the block, heading for her house.

She could feel moisture brimming at the edges of her eyelids, preparing to spill down her face. But she gulped in air from the open window and tried to regulate her beating heart.

...

House stood in the now empty parking space, leaning his weight against his cane and starring down at the tiny piece of paper, the tiny memory forever etched in their minds.

The memory that reminded both of them of everything that used to be, but wasn't anymore, and that could never be again.

He looked down at the photograph that captured every reason why he had loved her, and it reminded him of how much he still loved her.

And he knew it was all that, every memory of the past, everything he had done, that still hurt her today.

...

Thank you, as always, for reading this chapter! Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated! The next chapters are mostly planned out, and there will be a little bit of a medical twist that is based on a true story, coming up! Hope you enjoyed my little fic so far, I'm still getting used to writing stories like this, but I'm getting more comfortable as I write. Thanks! :)