A/N: For those of you who you who read the original posting of this chapter, the part that caused all the fuss has now been edited out. Just to be safe.

The sun had risen a few hours previously and Cuddy was curled up under a tree with a book, cushion and glass of elderflower cordial. As the heat engulfed her, she put down her book and just let the rays wash over her. She sighed with utter content. She was so happy in that moment that she wanted to cry tears of joy. The leaves swayed gently overhead and a breeze flew past her. It was idyllic.

At least, it was until her sunshine was blocked by a large, House-shaped shadow. She groaned. "You're in my sun," she whined, glancing up at the figure above her.

"You're under my tree," he alternated, dropping down beside her and passing her an apple as a peace offering. "Eye for an eye."

"It's not your tree," she returned, but took a bite from the crisp apple all the same. "You can't own a tree."

"Au contraire, ma cherie," he replied. "Of course you can own a tree. There are very few things in this day and age that you can't own." He thought for a moment. "In more ways than one, of course."

She shot him a sideways look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you know," he drawled. "There's owning things financially, physically, emotionally - like I said, there are few things at this point that aren't owned by someone." He picked the apple out of her hand. "Like this. Even though I gave it to you, I have an emotional bond with it. So, it's mine."

"Ah, I've missed your convoluted logic," she smirked. "Almost as much as your blatant disregard for authority and rules."

"What makes think I haven't kicked those habits?" He asked, false-affronted.

"Did you steal this apple from Buck's orchard?" She questioned him, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes."

"I rest my case," she answered. "But, I wouldn't worry. Now that I'm not your boss, I rather like those traits in you."

"I'm dangerous and unpredictable," he supplied. "A bad-boy."

"I prefer to think of it as exciting," she offered.

"On that note, would you like a drink?" He pulled out a bottle of Bordeaux from behind him. "Compliments of Archer's wine cellar. A beautiful day like this isn't complete without a finishing a bottle of red between old friends."

She smiled and popped the cork, taking a long swig. "That's good," she murmured. "Archer won't be happy you took it."

"What Archer doesn't know - yet - won't hurt him. You should see how many bottles down there are filled with water." He took the bottle back a gulped it down. "Sure, he'll be mad when he finds it. But why think about then as opposed to now?"

"Good point," she agreed. "I just want to think about now." She rested her head against his shoulder. "Is it always this peaceful here?"

"Pretty much," he replied. "Well, apart from in mating season."

She chuckled lightly imagining it. "I assume that you're quite the bovine OB/GYN?"

"Naturally," he played along. "I've delivered every calf in this place."

She shifted down so she was lying on the soft grass. "I swear everything's brighter here. The grass, the sky. It's like the contrast has been turned up in my brain. Everything's so... dull in Princeton. Grey."

He didn't speak for a second. "I had no idea that you wereso unhappy there."

She shrugged as he slid down to lie next to her. "Neither did I. Until I came here." She leaned over and, in the spur of the moment, kissed him. It was long and tender, her soft lips fusing with his. Neither was keen to move past a simple touch of the lips. It was only after a breeze disturbed the peace that House slid a hand into her hair and deepened the kissing, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.

Her body burned with desire. Damn her no-sex rule. However, she couldn't deny that she was the one who'd made the move into kissing. As if they were on the same wavelength, House broke the moment. "Weren't we not supposed to be doing this?" He asked her, voice higher than usual.

"Unless you've suddenly become one-dimensional, I'd say this doesn't count as 'sex.' Of course, if you think differently, we can stop..."

"No no," House jumped in. "Just checking. To be sure."

She smiled and moved above him, lowering her lips so they were just above his. "The only thing I'm sure about is that there nowhere else in the world that I would rather be than right here, with you."

Lucas pulled up into a motel and opened his shoddy little room. He collapsed on the bed, eyes weary. He'd been driving now for almost three weeks... And he couldn't help but feel like it was time to go home. As much as it pained him to admit it, he wasn't going to find them. Lisa had walked out of his life - and he couldn't bring her back.

He had thought of everything. But to no avail, all his leads had ended up as dead ends. So she would stay with House and live happily ever after and he would return home and try and move on.

But... how? They lived together. She'd taken nothing with her. All of hers and Rachel's things were still in the house - he couldn't get rid of them. Could he? She'd kill him. But she was the one who left? He shook his head. At this point, he just wanted to have a conversation with her. But she hadn't taken her phone and he couldn't find the landline number for House's new place.

He thought again about how he could locate the man. He'd done his best but had been so far unsuccessful. Dr Gregory House... He left no trace, apparently. The two people who had definitely known where he was were Cuddy and Wilson - neither were going to be forthcoming with that information, for obvious reasons.

Dr Gregory House...

Then, Lucas sat up. It was so simple. Dr. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and searched the American Medical Association's contact details. As he made plans to place a call in the morning, he thought about how his search wasn't dead yet. He couldn't give up on her. She was worth more than that.

As the bottle of wine drew to a close Cuddy leant closer to House. She wasn't drunk, but a little looser than usual. He smirked as she nuzzled her nose into the warm skin of his neck. After all, she had been the one who'd enforced a no-sex ban, and here she was pawing at him like there was no tomorrow.

"Cuddy," he warned. "Just so you're aware, if you keep doing that..."

"What?"

"There are certain bodily reactions that I can't control," he explained delicately, glancing down to his crotch. "And as I recall, you were the one who was against touching of that kind."

"Sorry, sorry," she apologised, sitting back up against the tree and fiddling with her fingers. She let the moment settle before turning to House. "What was the bitchiest thing I did in our relationship?"

"Oh, are we having this talk?"

"House, we've been here for a month," she told him. "I think it's time. I know we've both been avoiding it like the plague but we need to just suck it up. House, we can make us work. I know it. Before, we were so caught up in the fact that we were actually in relationship that we forgot to just be in that relationship. I think, if we try again, we can do it."

He sighed. "I'll be honest with you. I put everything into our relationship. I tried my hardest to make us work. You were the one who ran away - and you were the one who didn't do a damn thing to make it work."

She looked momentarily hurt. "What do you mean?"

"Cuddy, there were so many things that I did for you. I babysat your kid, I dealt with your mother, I gave up my masseuse, I supported you and Rachel getting into that preschool, I offered to take you to France and for once, I actually took your commands within the hospital and did my clinic duty. I made an effort. You didn't," he accused.

"That's not fair," she shook her head. "House, the thing is, when you're convinced you're right, that's it. There can be no inbetween. So you think that you made all the changes and I sat back and did nothing. But, I don't parade the things I did in front of you. Because I don't think they were a big deal. I don't feel like I should bring them up in conversation like this because they were nothing special - House, they were just what you do in a relationship. Same with yours. You deal with snarky in-laws. You help babysit the kids. You stop getting massaged by a hooker you would once have sex with. And, for God's sake, you do your clinic duty because it's your job." She started pulling grass out of the ground. "The most important - and, I know, most difficult - thing for you was going to be opening up to me. Actually sharing your life with me - and letting me do the same. That's what I needed from you... And that's what you couldn't do."

He didn't say anything.

"If you had been the one potentially with cancer," she continued. "I would not have left your side. Even for a second."

The silence prickled in the dusk.

Finally he spoke. "All those things that you said are supposed to be 'relationship reflexes' - they don't come naturally to me. They weren't things I just do in relationship. To me, they were big deals. And the fact that they weren't to you was part of the problem."

"I'm sorry," she replied honestly. "I am."

"And I haven't changed that much," he went on. "If you're still looking for someone who's just going to instinctively get how to behave... Well, you have the wrong guy. I'll do my best to do better, but that doesn't mean I'll be perfect."

"I don't want perfect."

"You seemed to."

They held each other's gaze for a few seconds before she caved. "I've never been able to forget you. Ever. And I've never loved anyone like I love you. I was determined to having you and I together, just slotting into our lives at the time. That was wrong. I was so attached to my life back there - nothing could change. But now... my job bores me. My daughter's growing up. I don't need that life. I need the people who should be in it."

He stroked her face tenderly. "I would never have broken up with you."

"I know that."

They fell back into silence once more. House was trying to get the courage to just ask one question. He decided to go for it. "If I could have done one thing differently, what would it have been?"

She thought. "I just... wanted you to talk to me. I know that sounds really pathetic."

"It doesn't. You know I just don't know how."

She leant her head against him. "We could work on it?"

"Yeah." He absentmindedly ran his hand up and down her calf. "My turn."

She nodded. "Fine. Shoot. What would you have changed about me?"

He reclined pensively against the tree. She could see his eyes flickering, his internal debate. It made her uneasy; how many things was he considering? She kept her lips zipped.

"At the risk of sounding like a thirteen year old, I wish you'd... just let me be me. Not completely, all the time - I get that there are things that I must do for this to work that are against my nature. But... I'm not warm. I'm not loving. I'm not giving. I'd like to not have to pretend to be those things all the time. I can't live the rest of my life like I'm playing a part." He looked ashamed. She felt so sad for him; she reached over and kissed him.

"Okay. You're right."

"As always," he couldn't help but add, knowing what would come next.

"You're an ass," she smirked, slapping his arm lightly. "But a very cute ass at that."

"You think I've retained my boyish good looks?" He joked, flipping the little hair he had back melodramatically.

"Honestly?" She looked straight at him. "Being out here as done you well. Sure, you look older, but... you look really, really happy House. Sort of warm and... glowing," she finished with, stroking his cheek with one finger. "You've soaked up the sun."

He nodded. "I like that," he answered finally, as if he'd stumbled upon a great truth. "That's kind of what I was looking for when I found this place."

She propped herself up one arm. "How did you get here?"

He lay on his back and crossed his hands, placing them on his chest. "I may have found myself with a slight gambling/drinking/prostitute problem. I was broke, old and miserable. These guys just shoved me on the couch and got me up and about. They forced me into helping until I got another job - that's what spurred me to find the AV medical centre. They pulled me out of my rut."

Cuddy looked over to him shyly. "Are you the one who's going to pull me out of mine?"

The corner of his lip quirked up. "We'll have to wait and see."

However, as the pair settled into a comfortable silence, his fingers lightly brushing the back of palm, they both knew the real answer to that question: I would pull you out of a rut if it meant pulling myself back in.

Patrick pulled Rachel down next to him in the hay in the barn, pressing a finger to her lips. "Ssh!" He warned, holding her behind him. They'd just snuck over to the neighbouring farm, several acres away, and stolen their neighbour's pride stallion for a ride. It was only a joke; Patrick had just wanted to ruffle his feathers. However, they'd since been caught and spent a fair amount of time sprinting across the fields away from the angry farmer.

Hidden in the barn, they both took a moment to relax. "You're a good runner," Patrick commented, catching his breath.

"Thanks," Rachel panted, her lungs on fire. Truthfully, she'd been dying all the way through, but she hadn't wanted to seem lacking compared to his strong, runner's thighs. "That was so exciting."

He chuckled. "Rach, rach, rach... I have so much to show you," he muttered, looking down at her. He couldn't deny that she was a very beautiful girl. She had a strong jawline and long, soft, chocolate hair. Her eyes were a soft brown, warm and doe-like. As she smiled up at him, he knew that she was special. She was different. The way she spoke and thought about things was way beyond her years. She was spontaneous and compassionate like he'd never seen before.

"Show me something here," she whispered, reaching up and raking her hand through his hair. He bent down and kissed her gently. His lips pressed against hers as she leant backwards against the hay. Together, they fell down so he was lying on top of her, supporting himself by his defined arms. She was so hungry with need for him - she could feel it all the way through her body. She'd never felt like this before.

His tongue worked its way across her teeth and she finally got the big deal about kissing. How someone holding your head and touching your lips so tenderly with theirs could make your insides flip and your head rush. As his hand started to slide up her thigh her heart began to beat faster with desire. She wanted to hurry him along, but stopped herself. She was almost jittering with anticipation.

As his fingers tried to creep over her waistband, he pulled away from her. "Is this okay?" He asked breathlessly.

She smiled. "Yes."

"You sure?" He checked, eyeing her.

"Sure. I want this," she urged him. "I really do."

He smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back. She'd never felt like this before. She'd never had a guy treat her this way. She thought of what her mother clearly had with House and felt confident that one day, with someone - whether it be Patrick or someone else - she could have that too.

Some time later that pair exited the barn - Rachel beaming. He took her hand in his for a moment as they wandered out of the barn. "I really like you, Rach."

She beamed. "I guess I like you too," she replied coyly. "Just a little."

He laughed and they entered into an easy conversation as they made their way idly back to the farmhouse, his arm wrapped intermittently around her shoulder. The jokes and laughs came freely and it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Except, of course, they weren't. There were other people in the world, and, although they didn't know it, other people in that part of the farm. After they'd left the barn and made their way across one field, they entered into a beautiful green paddock lined with trees. They flirted continuously, unaware that Cuddy was watching their every move.

Cuddy watched like a hawk as Patrick and her daughter walked together across the field. "I don't like that," she muttered darkly, catching House's attention. He sat up and followed her gaze, blinking in the sudden light.

"You don't like what?" He clarified sleepily.

"That. Them." She pointed to the pair of them. "She's a kid. He's a grown man. I thought it was harmless crush, but I don't think that anymore."

House wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back so she was resting against his chest. "I wouldn't worry. He's a good guy. He gets plenty of girls as it is - the likelihood he's doing anything more than indulging her little fifteen year old fantasy is slim."

"Still." Cuddy pursed her lips. "I think I should talk to her."

"She'll just get mad," House warned, his voice taking on a sing-song quality.

"Then she gets mad," Cuddy shrugged. "House, I have to check. She's my baby. It's always been me and her."

The corner of his lip lifted. "Let me guess: unbreakable mother/daughter bond?"

She smirked. "Something like that."

House kept an eye on them as they climbed over the gate and started up the path to the house. Patrick reached round and grabbed her waist. She squealed. He kept tickling, his hands running all over her lithe body. He could practically feel the anger emanating out of Cuddy.

He'd seen the exchanges between the pair but he'd honestly thought it was mainly innocent. Although, he had to admit, he hadn't been looking too closely. His mind had been focused on Cuddy for the past month; any fledgling relationships between other members of the household had been pushed aside. The only reason he was now rethinking that view was the rage radiating from Cuddy.

She pointed at the two of them with vigour. "See! Look! That's not innocent." She shook her head. "Oh God... Why does she have to do this?"

House couldn't resist one gentle jibe. "Like mother like daughter," he teased.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Predictable. And wrong. I was eighteen. An adult."

"If anything is happening - and I'm not saying it is - I'm sure it's mutual."

"Well clearly," Cuddy scoffed. "She's practically simpering over him."

"Again, like mother like - "

"Oh enough," she sighed. She turned to face House. "Will you talk to Patrick? Tell him to leave her alone?"

House exhaled. "Cud-dy."

"She's my daughter, House. I don't want him messing around with her. She's a kid. She's fifteen." Cuddy closed her eyes in frustration. "I've been so wrapped up in my own head since we got here. I just didn't see it."

She looked so stricken with worry that House decided to soothe her. "I'll talk to him," he agreed, brushing her hair off her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the newly tanned skin. "Don't you worry your pretty little head."

"Thank you," she replied softly, her eyes trained on the spot where Patrick and Rachel had been standing.

Later that evening House entered the kitchen, searching for a suitable pre-dinner snack. However, much to his unhappiness, Patrick was grabbing a glass of water. He groaned internally. Yes, he'd told Cuddy that he'd talk to Patrick, but he hadn't specified when. Unfortunately, when seemed to be now.

"Hey, Pat," House started awkwardly, "do you have a sec?"

Patrick flipped around and leant against the counter. "Sure. What's up?"

House pulled out a chair and sat, running a hand through his hair. "Just... leave the jailbait alone, alright?"

Patrick frowned. "What?"

"Rachel. Cuddy's not a happy bunny with the two of you flirting."

Patrick downed the glass and then put it on the counter with far more force than necessary. "Come off it, House. I'm just being nice. You asked me to look out for her. Nothing's going on; I'm just trying to keep her amused while you and Lisa 'reconnect.'"

"I'm not blind," House chided. "Look, she's cute. Whatever. Don't mess around with her. You can get plenty of other girls."

"House!" Patrick fought. "Nothing's happening between us."

House got up and prepared to leave the room. "Then make sure it stays that way - and makes Cuddy knows. I don't want to ruin this place for them." He turned toward the door and then whipped back round to Patrick. "If anything's happening between you two, and Cuddy wants to stay, you'll have to go."

Before Patrick could retaliate, House had hightailed it out of the kitchen and up to his room. He had a feeling that he hadn't been as forceful as Cuddy would've wanted. He hoped she'd appreciate that he didn't want to create a mountain out of a molehill (that was providing that nothing was happening between them). However, after that altercation, Patrick had been ruffled.

He'd have to stop Cuddy noticing or stop the two. He couldn't let her be driven away again.

As the sun set, Cuddy entered hers and Rachel's bedroom. "Hey," she said softly, coming to sit on Rachel's bed. "You okay?"

Rachel rolled over. "Yeah. I'm just tired. I had a busy day."

Cuddy kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Doing what?" She asked levelly, trying to segue neatly into the conversation she really wanted to have.

"We were messing about with the nearby farmer. Riding his horses and stuff," Rachel told her shortly, in typical teenager fashion.

"We?" Cuddy inquired.

"Me and Patrick."

Cuddy took a deep breath. "He's looking after you here?"

"Yep."

"And you like him?"

"Yep."

"And he's nice to you?"

"Yep."

"And - "

"Mom," Rachel interjected. "What's with the third degree?"

Cuddy smoothed the duvet. "It's just... I see the way you two interact. You guys clearly have fun together - I want to make sure that it's just that. Nothing more. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Rachel's features hardened. "Mom. Stop. You're imagining things."

"He's twenty five," Cuddy continued, her voice raising, "and you're fifteen."

"Yeah. I know. That's why - "

"Oh cut the crap Rachel," Cuddy hissed. "I know. I was your age too once and I've had a crushes before. I can see it on your face. Stop lying to me."

Rachel sat up, shocked and affronted. "Fine. If you won't believe me - "

"You may think that he really likes you but I, promise you, normal twenty five year old's don't mess about with kids," Cuddy tried to explain fruitlessly.

"I'm not a kid!" Rachel exclaimed huffily. "And he does like me," she hissed, so no one else in the house could hear. "He said so."

Cuddy was momentarily panicked. "You two haven't...?" She asked tentatively, praying for a no answer.

"What? No! God, Mom..." Rachel sighed. "There's nothing there."

"Honey - "

"Look, you asked me. I told you the truth. What more do you want?"

"That's not the truth," Cuddy replied, exasperated. "No matter what he says to you, honey, he's using you. You're a beautiful girl, sweetheart. I don't want to see you get hurt. I love you too much for that."

"Mom - "

"Just talk to me!" Cuddy implored. "Tell me what's happening."

Rachel frowned, her eyes dark and stormy. "Don't pretend like you really mean it now. You were happy being with House so I made my own friend. Can't you see that I'm growing up too? You came here to find the man you love, and maybe there's something in the water, but perhaps I found a guy that I could one day love too! I'm not a little kid anymore, Mom."

Cuddy was stunned into silence. "You think you... love him?" She almost wanted a lie-down. This was so far out of hand.

Rachel looked embarrassed. "No. But, maybe, one day... I could. He's so lovely to me. He treats me like I'm an adult. Like what I say means something."

"I don't make you feel that way?" Cuddy asked.

"You're my Mom. Doesn't count," she mumbled.

Cuddy processed for a minute and then she shook her head. "Look, maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe... we should just go home. This place doesn't seem to be good for you. We can drive back tomorrow," she forced out, although it pained her. She didn't want to leave House.

"No," Rachel whined, almost in tears. "I like it here. Mom, no! I can make my own decisions! Don't you remember what wanting someone is like?"

"Honey, I know. I do. But... not like this. This can't end well."

"Ugh!" Rachel stood up and threw her pillow at her mother. "Just fuck off. I hate you." She let out another expletive and the stormed out of the room. Cuddy leapt off to follow. When she poked her head out of the door, House was leaning against his doorjamb.

"I take it that went well?" He asked innocently, with a hint of self-satisfaction.

"I knew it," Cuddy said, rubbing her hand across her forehead. "There is something. But I don't think I handled it very well. Did you talk to Patrick?"

House nodded. "He maintained that there was nothing."

"I have to find her," Cuddy shook her head. "I have to talk to her. I should be more sympathetic." She took off down the stairs and tore through the house. So far, each room was empty. The kitchen was just the same, but the back door was flung open.

"Shit," Cuddy whispered. She ran out of the door, barefoot, her hair whipping against her cheeks in the darkening evening. "Rachel? Rachel!"

There was no sound. Cuddy glanced back up to the house, and then back into the darkness, her heart racing.

"Rachel!"