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Chapter 11

Wilson found House sitting in his own office, his head resting on his hand, his hand on his cane, rubbing his right thigh as he sat on the couch. Wilson sat next to him on the couch, stretched and exhaled.

"Wonder what she'll be like when she hits puberty."

"If she's anything like her mother, there'll be hell to pay," House said with a smirk.

The two chuckled momentarily before Wilson stood, "I think I'm in for a long weekend."

"That makes two of us."

"So, are you taking her to the lunch next week, or am I?"

"I'm not taking her," House said somewhat alarmed.

Wilson inhaled deeply, "I'm not the one she wants."

"And I'm not the daddy type."

"You don't have to go as her daddy. Go as her uncle."

"I'm not her uncle either."

"House, that child worships the ground you walk on."

"She's an idiot."

Wilson shook his head, "For loving you? You're the idiot if you can't see how much you mean to her."

Not wanting to further the conversation, House slowly stood, and made his way to the door. He turned back, weighing his words heavily. He fidgeted some, tossed the idea back and forth a bit and finally decided to just say it.

"Shelby's my half-sister."

Wilson opened his mouth but found he wasn't sure what to say at the surprising news. Instead, he simply nodded.

House turned to walk out the door and without looking back he said, "Why you'd want to date someone on her death bed is beyond me."

"You're okay with that?"

House shrugged, "I'm not her keeper," he said as he let the door close behind him. Wilson smiled, grateful for his cryptic permission.

Cuddy dabbed a wet paper towel at her daughter's eyes; Mia was perched on the conference room table, exhausted from her temper tantrum and finally calm enough to breathe normally. Cuddy quietly soothed her daughter, saying little, humming gently in an effort to comfort Mia.

"Feeling better?"

Mia nodded, "I don't remember Nana."

"That's because you haven't seen her since you were two."

"But you're sad, right?"

"I am. I'm very sad."

"You promise you'll be back on Sunday?"

"I promise."

"Is Uncle House going with you?"

"Yes." Cuddy tried to change the subject, hoping to divert Mia's attention, "I'm sure Uncle Jimmy would love to take you to the Daddy-Daughter lunch next week."

"I don't want Uncle Jimmy."

Cuddy sighed, "Honey, we've been over this. It's okay that you don't have a daddy. I love you more than anyone one else on the planet and both Uncle Jimmy and Uncle House love you too."

"I don't want Uncle Jimmy to take me. I want Uncle House."

"Oh," Cuddy said, surprised by her response, "Well, we can talk to him. Maybe he'll take you." Mia smiled as she hugged her mom.

"Mia, why do you love Uncle House so much?"

Mia pulled back from her mom to look her in the eye, and very simply said, "I pretend he's my daddy." She played with her shoelaces as a slight smile touched the corners of her mouth, "He's the one who used to check my closet for monsters." Again she looked up at Cuddy and shrugged her shoulders, "He makes me feel safe."

Cuddy's eyes brimmed with tears and in that moment, she knew she had made the right choice in asking House to legally adopt Mia; she only hoped he would come to feel the same way.

"You're not afraid of monsters in your closet anymore."

Mia smiled furtively, "I know." Cuddy gave her a knowing look.

Startling both Cuddy and Mia, House's booming voice could be heard from the hall, "Have the waterworks stopped?"

"It's safe, you can come in now," Cuddy called out to him. She looked at Mia, "I think you have something to say to Uncle House."

Mia sighed and pursed her lips, not unlike the way a certain uncle of hers did.

"I'll be in Wilson's office," Cuddy said, leaving the two in the conference room.

House sat down next to Mia and he eyed her, "Tantrum over?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"No flip-flops?"

"No."

"Wilson's waiting for you."

House stood from his chair, and Mia mimicked him by standing on the table next to him. He still towered over her.

"Uncle House?"

"Hmmm?"

"Will you come to Daddy-Daughter Day? I know you're not my daddy but the paper says uncles can come too."

He rolled his eyes, "Smiagle…"

"Please? You can even call me Smiagle if you want," she began to ramble, "And I'm sorry for yelling at you today. It's just for one day, and I wouldn't tell anyone you're my daddy. I just want to make believe in my mind; I know you're not my daddy for real, but sometimes I like to pretend."

House pursed his lips, just as she had moments earlier. The last thing he wanted to do was to attend a school function with a hundred runny nosed brats running around with their arrogant fathers; men who had succeeded at finding the one woman who would bear his children. It was a world in which House was completely unfamiliar with; a world he'd never had any interest in, and still didn't.

She saw the look of resistance on his face and went in for the kill, "Didn't you ever wish you had something the other kids had that you didn't?"

He tipped his chin down as he sighed, "Mia…"

"I wish I had a daddy."

Knowing he'd regret it, he said, "Only if Wilson goes too." He figured if he had to endure a lunch of absolute torture, Wilson may as well be along for the likely gut wrenchingingly horrid cafeteria lunch, too.

Mia was slightly disappointed that she wouldn't get him all to herself but it was better than if he'd said no, so she nodded in agreement. She threw her arms around his neck and he lowered her to the floor. House was not oblivious to the extra skip in her step.

She tore into Wilson's office, "Mommy, Mommy!"

Cuddy brightened upon seeing Mia's greatly improved mood, "What?"

"Uncle House said he'd go to Daddy-Daughter Day!"

House stood behind her at the office door, "Only if Jimmy here agrees to go along."

Mia looked expectantly at Wilson and he nodded. "Yippeeee!" she shouted.

Cuddy ran her hand under Mia's chin, "You are exactly what I needed before this weekend."

"Save it for the chick flick movies you cry at," House said flippantly, "We need to go before rush hour."

Cuddy picked up her jacket, "Nice, House."

Cuddy said her goodbyes to Mia and Wilson, House waved casually and the pair headed towards the elevators, leaving a tearful Mia behind.

The drive into New York had been a quiet one as Cuddy focused on the road while House slept nearly the whole way. She didn't mind though, as it gave her the chance to think about a lot of things, including the conversation she'd had with Mia. Cuddy couldn't help but look over at House once in a while, smiling at how innocent he looked when he was asleep. Her mind wandered, wondering what his home life had been like. Wondering what had happened in his youth that caused him to build such high walls, walls that were nearly impenetrable.

Cuddy dropped House off at the entrance to the hotel, and circled around towards the back in search of a parking spot. She pulled her rolling suitcase with his duffle bag on top into the lobby and found him waiting for her in one of the large sofas nearest the elevators. He pressed the number seven inside the elevator; as they exited the elevator, House handed Cuddy her room key, having checked them in as she parked the car.

"What room number?"

"Seven sixteen."

Exhausted, she said, "I'll see you in the morning?"

House nodded as Cuddy entered her room. She placed her bag in the far corner and turned around to head towards the bathroom, gasping in surprise as she nearly ran into House.

"What are you doing?"

"My key says seven sixteen too."

"I booked two rooms."

"I told them we only needed one."

"House."

"Cuddy."

She was so mentally tired, she nearly cried on the spot. "I can't deal with you right now, it's just too much."

"You asked me to be here."

"Here, as in at the funeral. Not here, as in my room."

"There are two beds, two people. Half the cost if we share. I won't make a peep."

Cuddy sat on the bed and looked up at him, laughing almost hysterically, not because she found the situation funny, but instead at the absurdity of it all. She reminded herself that she should not be at all surprised by the audacity of his antics.

"One peep and you're out."

"Right." House put his feet up on his bed, leaned back and decided to push her just a bit further, "I've got a mega pack of condoms in the outside pocket of my bag."

She flopped backwards onto her bed with a sigh, "House!"

"I'm starving, you?"

"No, go ahead."

House watched her from the corner of his eye, not willing to admit to her the real reason he canceled the second room. He allowed her to think whatever she wanted to, but he wasn't about to let her out of his sight, not after her near fainting spell the other night. He knew her blood pressure was higher than normal, regardless of her meds, and he intended to keep an eye on her whether she wanted him to or not.

"I'm going to take a bath," she said, unzipping her suitcase.

He smirked, "Can I join you?"

"In your dreams."

"I can daydream."

"Dream on."

"A dream is a wish your heart makes."

"When you're fast asleep," Cuddy giggled, "You did not just quote Cinderella."

House shrugged, "Rugrat made me watch it."

"When?"

"Two weeks ago."

"And how much of that song do you remember?"

"All of it."

"You're kidding."

"Wanna bet?"

Cuddy stared at him, unsure if he was telling the truth, "What do I get if I win?"

"Peace and quiet tonight and my best behavior at the funeral."

"And what do you get if you win?"

House smiled deviously, "You."

Cuddy tilted her head to the side, "I told you, I'm not a booty call."

"Maybe I don't want a booty call."

"You always want a booty call."

"Not always."

"So, what do you want then?"

"A little one on one time with the girls," he said, suggestively.

"Forget it."

"Fine, one night in the same bed."

"House!"

"No funny business," he held up three fingers, "Scouts honor."

"You keep your hands to yourself."

House nodded.

"Fine."

House began to sing, "A dream is a wish your heart makes

When you're fast asleep

In dreams you lose your heartaches

Whatever you wish for, you keep

Have faith in your dreams and someday

Your rainbow will come smiling thru

No matter how your heart is grieving

If you keep on believing

the dream that you wish will come true

No matter how your heart is grieving

If you keep on believing

The dream that you wish will come true

So dream..."

Cuddy took her things and headed for the bathroom, and with tears in her eyes, she said, "I hate you."

House smiled, "I know."

Cuddy stepped out of the bathroom bundled up in her terry robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. Instantly, she smelled the enticing aroma of coffee, and she thought she also smelled garlic. Rounding the corner as she exited the bathroom, she saw the corner table covered in a white table cloth, with a coffee carafe, two covered plates, a single carnation in a small vase, a side of garlic bread and House sitting in one of the two chairs at the table, smiling expectantly.

"What's all this?"

"Dinner."

"House, I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything, sit down and eat. I'm starving."

She sat down next to him, poured herself a cup of coffee and inhaled deeply, savoring the smell and the temporary reprieve from the stress of the weekend.

"Headache better?"

Cuddy nodded. She looked at the spread before them and smiled genuinely. Glancing at him, she blinked for a prolonged moment, grateful for his efforts. She peeked under the lid of her plate and her mouth watered at the sight of penne pasta tossed with roasted vegetables, garlic and olive oil. "Thank you."

He shrugged, "Don't thank me. I charged it to the room and it's in your name."

She chuckled, "That's fine. This coffee is worth its weight in gold." Cuddy thought about the day as she looked up at him, "I'm sorry I blamed you this afternoon."

"I would never hurt Mia."

"I know," she watched him for a moment, tempted to ask if he'd made a decision about legally adopting her, but changed her mind. Instead, she said, "She's not afraid of monsters in her closet anymore."

House smirked as his eyes remained fixed on his filet mignon, "I know."

The two ate in relative silence. Cuddy was too tired to talk and House was lost in his own thoughts, though most of them were about her. When they were finished, Cuddy placed the tray outside the door and crawled into bed, beyond exhausted. House was in the adjacent bed, his eyes closed and his breathing becoming deep and patterned. Cuddy propped her elbow up and placed her head into her hand, watching House slowly succumb to sleep. Grateful he was there, and not nearly as disappointed that he was in her room as she thought she should have been, she couldn't repress the smile that slowly spread across her face.

She quietly got out of her bed and crawled into his, wrapping her arm under his, angling her arm up and around so that her hand rested on his shoulder. And for the second time that week, both slept a dreamless sleep.

House had been on his best behavior during the funeral. Cuddy glanced at him briefly towards the end of the service and gave him a smile of gratitude, thanking him for stifling his snark on her behalf. In truth, he'd allowed his mind to wander elsewhere, delving into his own past with thoughts of Shelby and his father. Mia's words resonated within; he'd most certainly had wished for the kind of father he'd seen other children with. The kind of father who coached little league, or who always seemed to wear a smile; fathers who weren't always so strict, and fathers who didn't think it appropriate to use extreme punishment as a form of discipline. He didn't have many friends growing up, in part because they moved so much and in part because it was easier to pretend others didn't have the picturesque father he so longed for. It was easier to think everyone else was just as miserable as he was. It was easier to think love didn't exist, because if it did, surely he would have experienced it more often from his own father. Tough love didn't quite cut it twenty-four-seven.

He remembered how his dad had insisted he be outside immediately after school, no loitering allowed. If he'd been so much as the third student out of the building, his father would go into a rant about irresponsibility and the importance of promptness. They weren't merely lectures however; his words were always laced with a touch of venom, leaving a painful sting House had learned to swallow at an early age. Be a man. Suck it up. No sissies in this family. Life isn't all sunshine and rainbows.

House wondered if Mia was truly better off without a father and decided if she'd had one like his own dad, then she was certainly better off without one. If she wanted to pretend she had a daddy for one day in her life, he wouldn't be the one to crush that dream. He wouldn't be his own father in that regard. He wouldn't enjoy it, but he could put up with one school lunch if it made her happy, and admittedly, he occasionally wondered what kinds of Daddy-child lunches he might have gone to, had Cuddy's pregnancy come to fruition. Perhaps he'd do a little imagining too, though he wouldn't dare admit that to anyone. It would be easy with Wilson in tow. Wilson could be the one to make-nice with the other fathers, provide conversation, chit-chat. House could simply be there, eat, watch Mia enjoy her moment, observe her at her new school.

He watched Cuddy throughout the service, marveling at how strong she was. Not a single tear danced across her face; she sat stoically, a pillar for her family. She held it together for the entire ceremony and into the reception, only breaking down once they were safely in the car and well on their way back to the hotel. They'd received several glances from people he imagined were her relatives or former neighbors and he wondered what she'd told her family about them. Was she pretending? Did she act as though they were in a relationship? He didn't so much as say 'boo' to anyone during or after the ceremony, keeping up his end of the bet, though he hadn't been the one to lose. He wondered if they knew she'd miscarried his child five years ago. Had she told anyone? He hoped not. That was their little secret. A select few knew at the hospital, but outside of the medical staff who took care of Cuddy, no one else knew about it. It was a link that would connect the pair for all of eternity. Losing a child, unborn or not, permanently etched a vacant patch on a parent's soul; even a curmudgeonly, older snark like himself.

Parent. He'd nearly been a parent. He practically was one to Mia. He almost felt like one on the rare occasion. A parent who looked after her like a parent should; never to scold or punish with humiliation or force, never to belittle or mistreat, never to ignore, well not blatantly anyway. And now Cuddy asked him the one favor he instantly rejected. To adopt Mia Rose Cuddy. His only hesitation lay not with the act of penning his signature on a legal document declaring him her adoptive parent, but rather the desire to be more than just a signature.

For reasons unknown to him, he looked at his one time love and wondered about what could have been. He'd almost had the impossible, what he knew could never be.

They found themselves again in the hotel room in the early afternoon, both still very quiet. The door shut behind them, House dropped his cane, took her hand in his, and pulled Cuddy into his embrace.

And when they made love that night, it was not out of grief for their miscarried child, not in memory of her mother, not in hatred of his father, not out of misguided desires, bets won, or to rekindle a relationship lost. No, when they made love that night, it was simply an act born out of decades of mutual love.