A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. I try to schedule time to work on this and other things come up and then other times I have writer's block. Thank you Clinic Duty for taking a peek!

Remember...the definition of reciprocity is: the act of responding to a positive action with another positive action. To give and take mutually; and to return in kind.

You'll find House and Cuddy are finally learning to do that.


She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "I need to know if you will fill in for me while I'm gone."

"Me?"

"You won't be on your own, Melissa is a terrific assistant and I'll be available if you have questions or if there's an emergency but right now things are running pretty smooth. You'd just be holding down the fort."

"Surely there are department heads more competent."

"There are department heads that have more experience but I need you." She pleaded. "You get along with everyone, you're extremely competent and I trust you."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "How long?"

"Two weeks."

"Whoa! Two? What's going on?"

"It's just time. I need a break."

"I'm worried about you."

"I know. You're a good friend and you've been so supportive and I appreciate that."

Suddenly it dawned on him and he gave her a knowing look. "House came to see you didn't he?"

She nodded. "He did."

Wilson looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. He'd worked hard to get them to talk and apparently it had paid off. He hadn't talked to House since he'd walked out of the restaurant in the middle of their conversation a day earlier. But now Wilson realized his abrupt exit had something to do with Cuddy. Wilson cared deeply for his two best friends and wanted them to work out their issues. Hell, he'd done everything he could to encourage it. Cuddy had always been there for him when he needed her; he knew he had to do the same for her.

"I'll do it," he said, finally. "I'll be happy to."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"Are you...okay?" He asked, concerned.

She leaned back in her chair and answered him as honestly as she could.

"Not yet...but I will be."


It was just after nine o'clock and Cuddy was lounging on the couch reading a book. She couldn't remember the last time she picked up a book to read purely for enjoyment and she had to admit it felt great.

She had just turned the page to a new chapter when she heard it, the telltale thumping of a cane on her door. As she leaned her head against the back of the couch with a loud sigh, she had to admit his appearance at that hour wasn't completely unexpected. He'd been doing it for years, showing up at the oddest hours, under the guise of needing permission for some outrageous procedure. This time though, he was on vacation, so she knew it wasn't likely related to work, which made her a little nervous. Perhaps he wants to talk, she thought. Since their conversation at the cemetery a day earlier, she hoped there would be more.

She laid the book on the couch next to her and got up to answer the door. Without even looking through the peephole, she opened it stepped aside to let him in.

"You open your door to just anyone? I could've been a mass murderer," he said as he limped past her.

"I like to live dangerously," she replied, facetiously. She closed the door behind him and followed him into the living room. "Why are you here?"

He turned to face her. "Relax, it's not like you have to go to work tomorrow."

"How'd you know?" She asked, hands on her hips.

He smirked. "Are you serious?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Wilson. I should've guessed."

"That guy would make a lousy spy," he mused.

She smirked. "Well since you're here...how about coffee? I don't have beer."

"Coffee's fine." He really wasn't in the mood to drink alcohol anyway.

She walked into the kitchen and he followed. He tilted his head and watched her hips sway with her movements. Her ass was delectable in those black yoga pants and her fitted tee-shirt left nothing to the imagination. This Cuddy reminded him of the one he knew in college. She looked adorable with her hair in a ponytail, no makeup and bare feet. In fact, even though he thought she was stunningly gorgeous when she was dressed and made up, secretly he liked plain and casual Cuddy better.

"So how long?" He asked, watching her pour water into the coffeemaker.

"Two weeks."

He smirked. "Copycat."

She let out a throaty laugh and then noticed how heavily he leaned on his cane. "Go," she waved him away. "I'll bring your coffee in when it's done." He nodded gratefully and left. Cuddy watched as he limped into the other room. Wilson had told her he'd been taking more Vicodin in the last month. Obviously he was in a great deal more pain than usual. She watched him and once again the wave of guilt washed over her. His pain didn't just create a looming gray cloud over his life, it created one over hers too. Every day she thought about it and how much it had robbed him of the man he once was. She hated it, and wished she had the power to take it from him.

As she waited for the coffee to brew, she wondered what they would talk about now that they were talking. Even though they'd both apologized, there was still so much to discuss. Talking had the potential of healing them or as was normally the case with them-it could blow up in their faces causing even more pain.

When the brewing completed she poured him a mug and returned to the living room where she found him on the couch, his shoes off and feet up on the coffee table. The fact that he'd removed his shoes surprised her.

He watched her as she took in his socked feet.

"What? I know how picky you are about your furniture."

She knew why he put his feet up so often, it alleviated the pain in his leg. She handed him his mug and then sat opposite him on the other end of the couch, her feet tucked underneath her. She watched as he took a few sips, placed the mug on the table next to him, then put his hands behind his head and relaxed against the back of the sofa, his eyes closed. Cuddy marveled at how comfortable he seemed in her home.

"So," he said. "You really taking two weeks?" He opened one eye and peered over at her curiously.

"Don't know. What about you? What's your team going to do without you?"

"They know how to get a hold of me if there's an emergency. Chase is in charge, he can handle it."

"I'm surprised you actually took time off."

"Yeah," he said. "Me too."

"You're going to rack up clinic hours while you're gone," she mused.

He looked at her knowingly. "You think I'd take off without covering that?"

Then she realized it. "You're making Cameron do them, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"House, she's a highly competent, respected physician, why do you hate her so much?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't hate her."

"You should try telling her that." She snorted.

"Seriously? And ruin my reputation?" He asked. He laid his hand over his heart and feigned insult.

She laughed again. "You're an ass."

He changed the subject quickly. "So...let's get back to you. You haven't taken a vacation in..." He looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Since you became Dean. It's going to drive you crazy not being there."

"Probably." She picked up her own mug of hot tea and sipped from it. "But Wilson's there so I think things will be okay."

"Until he sleeps with Mandy and she quits."

"Melissa" she stressed. "And she's a newlywed so there won't be any messing around with Wilson."

"Oh like that'd stop him," he scoffed.

Cuddy hoped that wasn't true. Melissa was the first solid assistant she'd had in years. She didn't want to lose her.

"House...is that why you're here? To talk about work?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Actually I'm here for purely professional reasons. I heard your ass had increased in size exponentially over the last few days and thought perhaps I'd do a thorough exam."

She rolled her eyes. "My ass and I are just fine thank you."

"So you say but if I could just get my hands-"

"House!" He was frustrating her. He'd clearly wanted something by going to her house but now he seemed to be backpedaling. "Why does it always have to be so hard for you and I to sit in the same room and have a conversation that doesn't involve you mocking me about my choice of clothing, my body parts or as you like to say-shitty doctoring skills? Why can't we just be normal?"

"There's no such thing as normal."

"House," she said, her voice had a pleading tone to it. "There has to be more...right?"

He sighed. "You know I'm not good at this."

She nodded. "And I am? I want us to talk; I want to find something more than the same old...crap."

He turned a little to her, and crossed his arms. "How about telling me how you got so attached to that little girl?"

She sat up straight. "I am not a puzzle, House."

"Never said you were."

She wasn't in the mood talk about Emily, the wound was still fresh. "Can we talk about something else?"

He shook his finger at her. "No. We either talk about everything or nothing at all. No in-between."

She rubbed her face. She wasn't sure she was ready to share that with him. Her feelings about Emily ran deep and it brought up things she couldn't discuss with him. She wanted to but she couldn't.

"So what's it gonna be?" He awaited her answer.

She pondered his words. If they were going to build...or rather rebuild...they had to start somewhere. There had to be trust. But if she had to open up, she was going to make damn sure he did too. This was not a one-way street.

"Okay," she said, hesitantly. "I'm sure you know this but I met her at the hospital when Wilson started treating her. I don't know what happened...we just clicked. She has..." she corrected herself, "She had these eyes, and they were large and expressive. She was a good kid, smart and so full of life. She'd been through so much and yet she was so incredibly brave. Even toward the end, she was just...so aware of what was going on around her and so aware of other people's emotions. I've never met a child like her." She exhaled deeply and prepared herself for his response.

His fingers drummed lightly on the arm of the couch. "You let yourself get attached too easily."

Of course he'd say that, she thought. "There's nothing wrong with letting yourself get close to another person, House."

"When you get too close, it hurts."

She bit her lip, trying not to show her annoyance. Neither did she want him to know he was right. "Yes, it does hurt but that's life. Knowing that little girl made me a better person. Only you would consider that a bad thing."

"I didn't say it's a bad thing, but you're just putting yourself through more pain."

She tilted her head curiously wondering where he was headed.

"Why didn't you tell me about the miscarriage?" He asked, bluntly.

"What?" She had not expected that.

He looked at her.

She swallowed hard. "How did you even know about that?"

"Don't worry; your best girlfriend didn't say anything, at least not directly. But something else he said indirectly got me thinking. The signs were there, I should've seen them."

"House, don't treat me like one of your patients," she warned.

"I'm not. It's just that you wanted a kid, I gave you the shots, and nothing came of it after that. I figured you just gave up."

"I did. After the third time-"

His jaw dropped and she realized he'd misunderstood.

"I miscarried once," she said. "The last time. The first two never took."

"You should've told me."

He had taken her by surprise once again and it took her a moment to respond. "I...there was a lot going on."

"You told Wilson."

"I didn't mean to. Something...happened and I was upset. He caught me off guard when he walked into my office and...it just came out. And let's face it, you don't do those kinds of conversations well."

Good ole Wilson, he thought. At least she told somebody though he felt bad that while she'd trusted him with the injections, she hadn't been able to trust him enough to share her loss.

"When?"

She looked down as she fidgeted with the fringe on the throw pillow in her lap. "Around Thanksgiving."

House pursed his lips and looked away for a moment.

Cuddy watched as Housed seemed lost in his thoughts. She knew the gears were turning. He was analyzing something.

And then it hit him.

"Shit." He'd been detoxing and Tritter was on his ass, his Vicodin stash confiscated and he was on limited doses, which weren't nearly enough to keep up with his pain. He remembered lashing out at everyone especially Cuddy. He was angry at her for not giving him more Vicodin and she'd taken over his case when the judge gave her guardianship of the patient. It was the little girl with...he wracked his brain...erythropoietic protoporphyria. One minute they were in surgery, the next, he found them on the floor of the shower, Cuddy desperately trying to cool the patient down...

"It's a good thing you failed to become a mom, 'cause you suck at it!"

Suddenly he felt like he couldn't breathe. He needed air. He pushed himself up awkwardly from the couch and limped quickly toward the door.

"Wait! Where are you going?" She jumped up and went after him.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he said gruffly.

She ran past him and stood facing him, blocking his access to the door. "Doing what? We're just talking!"

"I didn't know...about the miscarriage."

He remembered. She had never forgotten his words. She'd long forgiven him even though the memory of it still hurt. Only House had the ability to cut her to the core. The only time he ever did it was when he was in pain and she told him that.

"Not an excuse!" He growled.

"I'm not making one. Just stating a fact. You really were in a lot of pain House. And so much was going on...with Tritter and-"

"Jesus Cuddy, just stop. Why in hell would you even want to be around me?" He bellowed.

With one hand on her hip, she ran her fingers of the other hand through her hair frustratingly. What could she say? House was a lot of things to her, one moment he was her rock, dosing her with truth and keeping her afloat and the next he was vicious and cruel. He'd said things over the years had cut her to the bone. She knew he didn't mean to hurt her but yet he did. She always moved on but while time had dulled the ache, it was still there.

"And don't lie to me," he added sensing her hesitation. "If there's one thing I expect from you, it's the truth."

She stood firm. "Yes, what you said hurt me more than anything else you've ever said...and you've said a lot."

He scratched his head. "You should hate me."

She sighed. "I should. And yet, I don't so what does that tell you? I guess I'm as screwed up as you are. Look, I was angry, you really hurt me. I've known you a long time and you never hit below the belt before...not like that."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

She stepped closer. "I know but when you lash out..." She instinctively put her hand over her heart to emphasize exactly where he'd hurt her.

He pointed at her with his cane. "That's why you're better off not around me."

"No, I'm not."

"I'm toxic. You've said so yourself."

"You don't do it because you want to hurt people!" He ignored her and tried to push past her but she blocked his path and put her hand out to stop him.

"Cuddy...don't," he warned.

"House!" Cuddy was frustrated and angry that he was on the verge of walking away again.

She took him by surprise when she got up close, in his personal space and stared at him defiantly. "You can't just walk away when we're finally talking! You came to me at the cemetery...when I needed you. You put yourself out there by comforting me and apologizing to me. You and I both know you were way outside your comfort zone and yet you let your guard down for me. Dammit House, you made me believe there was a chance to fix this shit."

She noticed how his eyes searched hers, almost as if he needed reaffirmation.

In a low but firm voice, she said, "Don't do this again. Don't walk away from me again. I've gone through something...life changing...these past few months...and I don't have anyone to talk to. I mean...I have people I could talk to but...I don't want to. The only person I want to talk..is you."

"Why me?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Because you know me better than anyone. Because you've seen me at my best and worst and you're still here. Because you're the only one who's ever been straight up with me and isn't afraid to tell me the truth. Because despite all the rude comments to the contrary, I know you respect me. And on some level you care."

"What about Wilson?"

She gave him a weak smile. "I love Wilson but he works too damn hard to try and say the right thing to make me feel better."

"Isn't that what you should want?"

"How long have you known me?"

He rubbed his face. He wasn't prepared for all this, not at once.

"House," she said softly, her tone pleading. "I don't need people feeling sorry for me or pitying me or telling me what they think I want to hear. I need someone who will tell me what I need to hear. I know you understand that."

House leaned forward, both hands resting on his cane. He understood. "Cuddy," he said his tone softer. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Her husky laugh reverberated throughout the room. "Oh God House, that's where you're wrong. I have known you half my life. I know exactly what I'm getting myself into."

He looked up and their eyes locked.

"Will you tell me what happened?" He wasn't pushing her on the miscarriage to hurt her, he wanted to know. When she'd trusted him with the injections he felt like he'd obtained access to a new and private side of her he'd never seen. He liked being part of it, it was this secret held by just the two of them. He'd tease her while giving her the injections, they bantered, exchange knowing smiles in the hallway. It had changed them, at least he thought, for a short time, things had been different. He'd been a part of her journey until she'd cut him out of it. If he was going to be some part of her life again, he needed to know.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It hurt to talk about but she knew from the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, he really wanted to know, and not because he wanted to mock her or make her feel bad. She'd been so happy to share her secret with him and enjoyed the moments they shared when he gave her the injections. Oh he teased her, but it wasn't cruel or biting, it had a tinge of flirtation and she liked that. She'd seen a side of him she hadn't seen in years. And then she'd thought there might be the possibility. Now, he was asking her, he genuinely wanted to know. And she wanted him to know, she really did.

She nodded in response to his question. "So...you'll stay?" She asked, hesitantly.

"Yeah."

"Okay." She blew a sigh of relief, glad to have moved past that. She really didn't want him walking out her door yet. She was lonely, she wanted company and not just any company, she wanted his. He had the power to make her feel whole again and at that moment she needed that more than anything.

House turned and let her walk past him back into the living room. They sat on the couch, at opposite ends, but facing one another. It felt to both of them like something had suddenly changed. The walls were down. How long, neither one knew.

She looked down and fidgeted with the fringes on the throw pillow again. "Like I told you, the first two didn't take. I had the first procedure done in August and again in September. I thought I was pregnant after the second one but it was just wishful thinking and when the test came back negative I decided I'd try one more time. That was it. I was tired of getting my hopes up. So I went in and had the last one done in October."

"How far along were you?"

"Four weeks. I woke up one morning to terrible cramps...and then..." she drifted off, knowing she didn't need to finish the sentence.

"Shit," he said out loud. Four weeks. Another week and she would've heard a heartbeat. He felt an overwhelming sadness that she'd endured the entire experience alone.

Without thinking he asked, "Which donor did you choose?"

"None from the files I gave you." She hesitated a moment before she continued. "I...I just wasn't comfortable with any of them. I went through another set of files on my own a few days before the first procedure."

"Let me guess...valedictorian, bookworm, overachiever?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood.

She shook her head and nearly whispered, "Try tall, athletic, and smart and..." She paused. "He was a musician."

She spoke softly but he'd heard every word perfectly and he had not expected that response and her revelation prompted his next question.

"That night you came to see me...why didn't you ask?" He remembered that night when she came to his office. He knew from the look on her face, the way she smiled, her posture that she wanted to ask him something and he knew what it was. And he was ready to say yes.

"I was so close," she said putting her fingers together to illustrate. "This close and...I just couldn't. House, you and I both know it would've changed everything."

He watched intently as she struggled with her explanation.

"I'd thought about it early on but dismissed it...until I began thinking about what you'd said, that who you are matters and that it should be someone I trust, someone I like. The thing is House, that's you. I wanted to ask you but I worried you'd say no and then I'd be humiliated. Then I worried you'd say yes but that it would push you farther away from me. You already keep yourself arm's length from me, from everyone. If you walked out of my life for good..."

"I wouldn't have made fun of you," he said. He chose not to address the last part, not yet.

She stared at him. "But what would you have said?"

"Cuddy...look at me...I'm a mess," he said, clearly deflecting.

Cuddy let out an exasperated sigh. "House, we're all a mess. We all have shit. You're more than that. You're a good person. I wish you could see what I see."

As she talked, her eyes filled with unshed tears. He hated to see her in pain and he wanted to help her. He'd gotten a second chance and didn't want to screw it up. In that moment, he extended his arm along the back of the courch, his hand outstretched. Cuddy observed carefully and sensing his silent request and needing to feel him, she scooted over and seated herself next to him. He wrapped his arm around her and her head rested on his shoulder. He put his feet up on the coffee table and she mirrored his actions. She snuggled into his chest, holding back her tears.

"I considered it you know," he said, caressing her hair.

Her jaw dropped. "What?" She knew what he was referring to but she needed to hear it again.

"I thought about being your donor."

Her eyes widened. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

His head fell back against the couch. "The same reasons you didn't ask." It was true. Fear. He'd been afraid of rejection but worse the possibility that if she accepted, it would change everything and risk pushing her out of his life for good. He also feared that if he pushed her away, she might wind up with someone else raising their child and that he could not handle.

"Fuck," she said.

"Yeah." His fingers drew calming circles on her back.

She'd spent so many sleepless nights thinking about him...and what it would be like to be with him again...and what a child of theirs might look like. She often dreamed of a dark-haired, blue-eyed child with her compassion and drive and his brains and wit and athletic ability. She had wanted it more than anything, but fear had reined her in. And all that time...he'd been thinking of it too.

And that's when she cried. And when she started, she couldn't stop.

"It's okay," he whispered. He really had ever been good at comforting anyone but something made him want to comfort her. He had brought so much pain to her life; all he wanted to do was be there for her when she needed him. He didn't want to hurt her anymore.

And so they sat on the couch, he with his arms wrapped around her and her grasping onto his tee shirt and crying into his chest, her body shaking from it.

When her tears finally subsided, she was exhausted. Her emotions had been bottled up for so long and while it drained her, it felt good to release them, especially to House, the one person she'd wanted to share her pain with. Her head lay against his chest and she could hear the gentle thudding of his heart and it lulled her into a sense of peace she'd not felt for a long time.

She pulled away slightly and looked up at him, her face stained with dried tears. "Thank you," she said softly.

He smiled at her. "You're welcome."

Their eyes locked and it seemed an entire conversation passed between them without ever saying a word. Then she leaned against him again and he tightened his hold on her. Their embrace felt oddly natural to both of them.

"House," she said, her fingers fidgeting with his tee shirt.

"Yeah?"

"I think you would've been a good dad."

Her utterance surprised him. He wasn't sure how to respond. He never saw himself as father material period. "Trust me, there's a lot of baggage with my DNA."

She knew he had a strained relationship with his father, she had learned bits and pieces over the years. "Tell me," she whispered.

"It's late..."

"You promised to talk to me."

"And I will."

"Tomorrow?"

"Maybe."

Maybe was better than not at all. She'd work on him again. Something had inexplicably changed between them and she liked it. She wanted more. She hoped he did too.

House lost himself in the feel of her. At that moment, he felt no pain. Holding her was something he thought would never happen again, not after their last time together in college when they had been young and vibrant and had their whole lives ahead of them. He'd pushed her away for years, believing it was best for her...and for him.

They stayed that way, holding one another for a long time. They were both tired and it wasn't long before they both dozed off in their respective positions.

There weren't asleep long for Cuddy was jolted awake. She noticed House rubbing his right thigh. "Are you alright?"

"Hurts."

She pulled away from him but only slightly. "What can I do?"

"Nothing," he replied honestly. "Sitting too long."

"Do you need your pills?"

He shook his head no. "Took one before I came over."

"Oh," she replied. Then instinctively, she laid her hands on his and moved them from his thigh and replaced them with her own. She began massaging his thigh, gently pressing and kneading her fingers into the area hoping she was doing it right. She gathered that she was when she looked up at him and his head had lolled back against the couch and he looked a bit more relaxed. It was difficult to do it through his jeans but she kept on, wanting to relieve as much of his pain as possible.

House's pain had subsided somewhat with her actions. She had taken him completely by surprise when she touched him but he had to admit it felt good. Her kneading was gentle but firm and he knew it would take its toll on her fingers and so after about fifteen minutes, he laid his hand over hers and stopped her movements. His eyes conveyed his gratitude.

"Thank you," he said.

She smiled at him.

He looked down at his watch. "It's late," he said. "I should go." He really didn't want to leave but he didn't want to overstay his welcome either. The truth was that he felt less lonely being there with her and he wasn't ready to end the night just yet.

"Why don't you sleep here?" She asked, as if she could read his mind.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Why Dr. Cuddy are you trying to seduce me?"

She smacked him lightly in the chest. "No, you ass, I'm offering you the guest room. It's got a nice big comfy bed."

"I'd sleep better in your bed."

"I'm sure," she said with a roll of her eyes. She stood up and stretched.

"Why don't you tell me why you really want me to stay and maybe I'll think about it."

"I told you, it's late-" she began.

He interrupted her. "You're lying."

She sighed. "Fine. I don't want to be alone. I feel better with you here," she said sheepishly.

"Okay," he said simply.

"That's it?"

"Yep." He put his hand out to her. "Help a cripple up will ya?"

Cuddy shook her head at him then held out her hand, helping him up. He followed her down the hallway to the bedroom next to hers. She led him in and turned on a lamp.

"You know your way around here already so I don't need to tell you where everything is."

"Do we get to share a bathroom?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Nooo. Your bathroom is right there," she said pointing across the hall then she turned around to pull down the covers.

House watched her, amused at the great care she took in pulling the covers back, smoothing out the sheets and fluffing the pillows. He had to admit the bed looked incredibly comfortable but he wondered how much sleep he'd get laying there knowing she was just down the hall from him.

When Cuddy finished preparing the bed, she turned around and ran right into him. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. For a moment, they just stood there, their eyes locked. They both felt the tension. For a split second, House's tongue appeared to moisten his dry lips. Cuddy's eyes were drawn to his mouth and then back to his eyes, which seemed to be searching, looking right through her. They seemed entranced with one another for a few moments.

"Well, uh...guess I better turn in now," he said finally.

Cuddy finally broke out of her trance and said, "Yeah, me too."

Suddenly and unexpectedly, she reached up to House's face and cupped his cheek, running her thumb over his scruff. Then she raised herself on tip toes, she pulled his head down and planted a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek. House closed his eyes to immerse himself in the feeling of her soft lips on his skin. It felt so good it set his heart racing and made his cock hard.

Her hands moved down his arms and grasped his biceps gently. "Goodnight, House," she said and when he nodded to her, she turned and left the room.

"Night, Cuddy," he whispered as he watched her go.

House stood there for a moment listening as she padded down the hall to her room. He heard her door close and then water running. He sat down and removed his shoes and socks, then his jeans. He opted to sleep in his boxers and tee shirt.

As he sat there, he placed his hand on his cheek where she had kissed him and thought that he could still feel the warmth of her lips there. His heart was still fluttering from the contact. He silently chided himself for the feeling she'd left him with but he couldn't help it. There were feelings coursing through him that had been dormant for some time, mostly because he'd beat them down, believing things were best as they were. But as of late...he'd begun to rethink those feelings. Their fight had him revisiting his relationship with Cuddy and her importance and place in his life. He'd told himself for years it was better to keep her at arm's length but things were changing between them and while change scared the hell out of him, he couldn't help but think this was exactly the kind of change he needed. For once, he didn't feel the need to push her away.

House was not a man who believed in fate, he was a man of science, of fact and reason. But he couldn't shake the feeling that what was happening between he and Cuddy was in some part beyond their control. Above all else, it just felt right. And as much as he was used to picking apart and analyzing everything, he didn't want to analyze this, he just wanted to enjoy it, for as long as he could hold on to it. He recalled what he'd told Cuddy earlier, when you get too close, it hurts. He knew that was true, it had been the story of his life but the truth was that he hurt more without her than he did with her. He hung his cane on the nightstand and crawled under the covers, a groan of relief emanating when he was able to stretch his leg out straight. He laid there in the dark, wide awake, hands clasped behind his head, listening to Cuddy moving around in her bedroom. He thought about her confession that the donor she'd chosen...tall...athletic...smart...and a musician. God, he thought. Why didn't I just do it? The thought of a child that was a mixture of the two of them put a dumb grin on his face and he couldn't help but think of the havoc a child of theirs would wreak upon the world.

Cuddy finished brushing her teeth and then changed into a tank top and shorts, turned out the light and crawled into bed. She rolled over on her side and reached a hand over to the empty side of her bed. As she ran a hand over the soft cotton sheets, she thought of House and how quickly things had changed between them. When she sat down earlier in the evening and opened her book, she never expected the night would end the way it did. She hadn't expected to reveal to him the circumstances surrounding her miscarriage, nor had she expected that he would admit he'd considered fathering her child. She hadn't planned to cry in his arms, as he held her...again. Damn him, she thought. He wants everyone to think he doesn't care but he does. He cares...about me. That thought made her smile, her heart flutter. Somehow, walls were breaking down between them and she wasn't even sure who or what was controlling it. She didn't care either. For once, she wasn't going to think it to death, she just wanted to enjoy it. For many years, she had hoped that someday he'd come around, that he would see she truly cared about him. She wondered if he knew just how deep her feelings for him went.

And at that moment, she heard the booming voice of the man who had, at that moment, been the focus of her thoughts.

"Hey woman!" He yelled. "Where are my pillow mints?"

"Shut up and go to sleep, House!" She yelled back. Some things will never change. Cuddy smiled to herself, then grabbed the pillow on the other side of the bed and wrapped her arms around it, closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.