Disclaimer: See first chapter

A/N: Sorry it's a shorter chapter, but I needed to get it out before continuing on with the plot. And if I had of added the next part at the end of this chapter it wouldn't have fit. shrugs Thanks for the reviews as usual, I enjoy the high. Helps the muse, lol.

He looked good in the early morning light, at least she thought so. He also looked well rested, which was something that he hadn't looked for a while. The early spring sunshine, a pale blue light streaked with yellow was lighting the room, stretching it's hands across her bed and his skin. She had woken a half hour ago – earlier than normal, but then she wasn't quite accustomed to not having her whole bed to herself. Normally in the early hours she would roll over and hug one of her pillows, deep thick down filled things that she had too many of on her bed. She loved them though and slept with as many as possible. This morning she had rolled over and encountered warm skin to hug instead of down pillow. She couldn't say she really minded.

He was still asleep, mostly because only insane women who liked to sit and analyze every little thing the morning after would actually be awake this early on a Sunday. She bit her lip thoughtfully as her mind wandered. It had been perfect, without words, and he had filled that aching void he had left within her. None of this surprised her, but it still left the question of 'what happens now' hovering in the air above the bed, practically a third person she had slept with. She laid her head back down on his chest. She was on his left side, so she could hear the echo of his heart in her ear. It was oddly comforting, just to lay there and listen to the sound of his heart. She never wanted him to wake up- and she wanted to wake him and tell him what a beautiful sound it was. His breathing pattern changed and she knew the choice had been taken away from her anyway. So typical of him.

His hand slid up her back to rest at the nape of her neck as his fingers tickled her hair. He didn't speak right away and she was grateful for that small moment in which she could lay still and feel him against her peacefully. After the moment was over however, he again took the choice of silence versus needed conversation away. "What's it saying?" His voice was rough and she was suddenly reminded of their conversation about his stalker girl. All I heard was Greg House, Greg House, Greg House. She had been amused at the time – it was hard to take a barely legal girl seriously. She listened closely to his heartbeat, but all she could hear was the sound of his valves closing in a soothing sequence.

"It's not speaking to me." She finally answered after listening for a moment.

"How rude, did you insult it?" She laughed into his chest, her lips brushing the skin there subtly before she pulled her head back to lay it on one of her many pillows. She could see his eyes that way- and she needed to be able to read him. Right now they were an odd mixture of amusement, seriousness and what look a little like disappointment. She stared into the depths searching for something more or less, and he leaned forward pressing his lips to hers softly.

She smiled, because it wasn't a kiss that was a prelude to sex, it wasn't even really a good morning kiss either. It was just the briefest brush of lips, just his way of letting her know he was still here. "Greg-"

He sighed dramatically, flopping back down against the mattress and flinging an arm over his head. "Can I have drugs before you finish that delightful sentence, which I'm sure will consist of several things I have no desire to talk about?" He pouted over at her, and she chuckled, nodding. Getting out of bed, she shivered as the cold air hit her skin, still flushed from sleep and him. "Oh nice. Looks like the girls think it's cold out this morning." His voice was teasing, but she ignored him as her eyes searched the room for his jacket. "It's in the living room." he pointed out helpfully and she rolled her eyes, grabbing her robe from her bedroom door and wrapping it around herself before exiting the room to the echo of his voice. "That better be off again when you get back here!"

She took the time to brush her teeth quickly and start coffee before going in search of his coat. By the time she found it - it had slid behind the sofa - and extracted the small orange bottle there was enough coffee for her to pour one cup cup and carry it all back down the hall to her bedroom. When she stepped in the room, he was frowning at her. "I said no robe." He glanced over as she placed coffee on his bedside table and shook out two pills for him, holding them out palm up. "But seeing as you come bearing caffeine and drugs.." He took her wrist in his fingers loosely and tugged her hand forward until her palm met his mouth as he swallowed the pills there. Her skin tingled from the contact and she cursed him for somehow making this erotic. She watched his throat as he swallowed expertly before she crawled back into the bed, going over him and burrowing under the covers before untying her robe and removing it again. She slipped over to him, pressing her now cool skin against his, absorbing his warmth. After she was warmer, he sat up slightly, and she sat up with him, leaning against her mountain of pillows.

She was silent for a few minutes, knowing that he was expecting her to start this conversation. After five minutes, he started fidgeting. Picking up his coffee cup, and putting it down again without drinking. After seven minutes he sighed and turned to look at her his face petulant. "Well?" She looked over at him wide eyed and he rolled his eyes, indicating that he knew it was yet another game. "Where's the questions? The what happens nows and the we need to discuss this..s." She laughed at that before sitting up more comfortably and turning toward him, crossing her legs under her as she faced him.

"Would you answer them if I asked?" She spoke seriously and he looked at her with sarcasm written all over his face.

"Of course not – I'd make a joke and avoid answering at all costs, then you'll get mad and hit me because secretly it turns you on. And I'll let you, because it works for me too." He smirked for a moment and she sighed. "And then we'd have sex, because – let's face it – you can't keep your hands off of me. Finally something would distract us and you'd forget to ask for a day or so, and then we could do it all again."

"I'm not going to ask you Greg. I'm not going to ask you to define this, or make promises or put anything out there that will bite me in the ass later-" He glanced down at her words with a smile and she smacked him lightly. He feigned hurt, but once finished his theatrics, he fell silent, placing his hand on her knee and stroking the skin there lightly, waiting for her to finish. "I like you. You know that. We're friends, and we work great that way. We're lovers and we work even better that way. This is- it is whatever it is. And that's fine, I don't need you to call me your girlfriend, or tell me things you don't mean just so you can keep sleeping with me." She paused for a moment, finding it difficult to breathe suddenly. She did want him to say those things to her – but not hearing them hurt a hell of a lot less than hearing them and knowing they weren't true. "But this- whatever it is is short term. At the very least once the baby comes-" She paused again awkwardly before breathing deeply and forcing herself to continue. "Things will change. I know you don't get this but I love this baby so much, already. I want him to have everything, and if that means – if I can't count on- I'll do whatever it takes."

When she looked up he was watching her seriously, his eyes dark with some emotion she couldn't quite read. His hand moved from her knee, taking her hand instead, and lacing their fingers together. "Alright." He was quiet, and it was unusual for him, but she was grateful for it. The room seemed filled with unknown emotion that pulled and scraped at her already sensitive heart. "Lisa-" She held her breath, waiting for him to finish and bracing herself for any pain that might result from the charged atmosphere. "When- after the baby... maybe I'll be ready then. To talk." He seemed to be forcing the words out, and she winced as they fell awkwardly into the air. He shouldn't be promising this – she knew it and he knew it too. It was best if they worked off of a no promise policy. So she shook her head. In understanding or denial, she wasn't sure but he wasn't going to press her to find out. He couldn't sum up the words to reassure her – there were none he could say that wouldn't violate the rule she had just set out. So his hand stroked against her skin, and his lips met hers, speaking a language that neither of them could properly translate, but both were fluent in. In her mind she knew it wasn't enough, would never be enough but it was all she had. So she wound her shaking hands around him and held on.

He couldn't figure her out. He liked puzzles, he liked solving them, he liked the knowledge that often he could figure out what no one else could. What he didn't like was the unsolvable. He frowned as he sat there, looking out at the expanse of the city below, almost picturesque in the bright sunshine. That was wrong. It wasn't that he didn't like unsolvable things – he enjoyed the challenge. As long as he knew that eventually there was the slightest chance he would solve it. She had been the ultimate puzzle in that way. He thought it took him twenty years to figure her out, but he had figured her out. And then suddenly in the blink of an eye, she had changed and he found himself studying her in confusion. The pieces weren't supposed to change.

She hadn't brought any kind of serious conversation up again, and he didn't know if he was thankful or feeling slightly hollow and disappointed. Of course he hadn't wanted to answer the inevitable questions, but he had expected her to force him to. Force him to look at himself and what he thought he was doing. When she hadn't, he had felt cheated. Yet he also felt like he escaped something. It was an odd mixture. "Hiding?" Wilson's voice spoke from behind him, before he walked into his range of vision, leaning against the wall he was currently sitting on. "I don't get what the roof does for you-"

"Perspective." He answered simply, causing Wilson to look at him in confusion.

"You need perspective? I thought everything was going well." His voice was expectant, like a school teacher's or a mother's when they want the child to volunteer the information themselves. Which was stupid, because the tone alone forced the child, so it wasn't very voluntary anymore was it?

"It is. Better than well. She is completely alright with the just sex thing, and wants no commitment from me. Perfect." Even he could hear the bitter edge to his own voice, which probably meant it was really bitter sounding to others.

"And now that you have exactly what you want you what? Don't want it anymore?"

"I just didn't expect her to agree Jimmy. I thought she was scratch and bite for something serious or definable. I don't understand why she would agree." He mused out loud and Wilson sighed loudly.

"Are you mentally deranged? Seriously, it's like anytime you get within ten feet of something that could possibly make you happy for a while, your self destruct alarm starts going off. Just be happy House!" Wilson had stood and was pacing back and forth and flailing now as he watched in amusement.

"I don't want to screw it up – I just want to understand."

"Fine. Did it maybe occur to you that she's protecting herself?"

"From what?" He asked, confused. Wilson rolled his eyes before sitting back down at his feet.

"From you moron." Wilson sighed again, and glared at him. "I know you can be a self absorbed bastard, but even you have to be aware that she cares about you."

He shook his head, in denial or disbelief – it didn't really matter. She didn't care about him, she had barely tolerated him a mere few months ago. "Are you high Jimmy? Have you been smoking the 'patients' weed again?" He held up his hands, creating quotes around the words he spoke. "She hated me at the beginning of this year- I drove her insane with Tritter and-"

"Yeah, insane with worry. And I'm sure she routinely lies to cover the asses of people she hates-"

"She just did that to-"

"You know what, it doesn't matter." Wilson cut him off with a hand gesture and his words. "You don't want to see it. So you won't. I can't make you – maybe she'll have better luck, but I seriously doubt it. But here's what I do know. You are being presented with a rare opportunity with Cuddy. It's called a second chance, maybe you've heard of them. Be careful."

"Why?" He bit out shortly. It amazed him that he always came to Wilson for his advice when it was usually delivered in a box full of morals wrapped in a pretty lecture. You don't have anyone else. Right.

"Because you were a wreck when Stacy left – and if things go bad- it'll be so much worse. There's a baby. And it's Cuddy." Wilson spoke as if this explained everything but he bristled at the implication.

"Lisa isn't Stacy."

"I know." Wilson spoke in a low voice and he looked back out to the view, hoping if he didn't respond, Wilson could take the hint and leave. "Just.. try to be happy. It doesn't hurt you know."

"Make up your mind Jimmy. I can't be happy and be careful all at once. You sit there and tell me all the ways it could go wrong and then tell me to go for it. Which one is it?" He swung his legs down. Even if Wilson left now, he wouldn't be able to enjoy the solitude. He needed to escape, and the roof would just echo with Wilson's words now.

"I'm just trying to-"

"Yeah well stop trying." He ground out, limping over to the door before exiting quickly. Wilson seemed to take the hint and didn't follow him, allowing him to catch the elevator alone and ride down to his office. It didn't matter anyway, Wilson might not have followed him, but his words hung around him echoing throughout his mind like a bad dream.