a/n: First I want to thank everyone for being patient with me. I have just recently (as in yesterday) found out that I will still have my job at the end of the summer. I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted (i.e. not defaulting on our mortgage!)

I decided to celebrate and write a little last night. I am hoping to have weekly updates from here on out. I also wanted to mention that I read about House writing his name by drawing an actual house in "if you let me I might try" which is a phenomenal story that I recommend reading.

Chapter 11: Lessons in finger painting

It was a gorgeous Saturday in the Princeton area and Cuddy had taken full advantage. Her and Rachel had taken a walk, played in the park, and were now finger painting at home. The result of which had Rachel and Cuddy both covered in finger paint. Cuddy didn't care, the paint was non-toxic and washed off easily.

She was about to give Rachel a bath and get her off to bed when she heard the characteristic knock on the door. She knew right away who was standing on the other side. She tried to ignore it but when he knocked the second time, Rachel got distracted and started looking at the door.

"Baby, just ignore it, okay" she said to Rachel, hoping he would just go away. As his knock got louder and louder, Rachel got more and more curious. She picked up Rachel and moved towards the door, she decided that using Rachel as a human shield would be her best approach. She purposely left the chain on so that she could only open the door a few inches. When she did, she was greeted with her bra dangling from House's finger tips.

She tried to grasp it out of his hands but she was holding Rachel and the door was only open ajar. When she made her move, House quickly moved it just out of her reach. "no, no, no, not so fast chickie" he said as he moved the bra away from in front of his eyes. "This is an exchange, your bra for my boxers, that is if you can pry then out from under your pillow."

He didn't mean to add the second part but it just came so naturally to him that he really couldn't help himself. He decided he wasn't going to remind Cuddy of their "date" until he a least got himself through the doorway, but now he probably screwed that up too.

"can't we do this later?" Cuddy asked.

"Sure, I would love to swap underwear in the hospital lobby!" he said.

After that thought, it didn't take Cuddy long to open the door and let him in. House finally got a good look at her and Rachel and noticed they were both covered in paint. "Are you wearing THAT on our date tonight?"

"House, don't be delusional. There is absolutely no way we are going out tonight, or ever" she stated matter-of-factly.

"nice…bring up the delusions. Rub a little more salt in the wound. It is not like I had to be committed or anything." Deep down House didn't really care if she called him crazy but he just found his angle to keep her from kicking him out…Cuddy's guilt.

As predicted, a sad look came over Cuddy's eyes and she said "I'll get your boxers, just wait in here for a few minutes. I need to get Rachel cleaned up before I have paint all over my house."

House sat there alone in Cuddy's living room. He felt strange, like he didn't belong. He got up and moved to the kitchen and found a bottle of beer in her fridge. He showed up at her house tonight to try and repair the damage he created last night. He really wanted to try a relationship with Cuddy and she had every reason to be careful with her feelings concerning him. As he sat at the kitchen table he realized that he needed to take a different angle on things. He needed to give her time and space to get used to the idea that things were different now.

Well, not that different, he thought. He was still an ass last night and he needed to rectify that. He reached in his pocket and pulled out her bra. He laid it on the table next to finger paints and paper and then a slow smile started to creep across his face as he got an idea.

It took Cuddy a lot longer to get Rachel cleaned up than she anticipated. It turns out finger paint and hair results in an impressive tangle. She had to comb through Rachel's hair with great care to keep her from screaming bloody murder. She finally laid her down in the crib, grabbed House's boxers, and toke a deep breath before walking into the kitchen to face House.

He was gone. She was about to curse him to the high heavens when she saw her bra sitting on the table. She grabbed it and noticed a few pieces of paper were folded underneath it. She picked them up and on the top cover, written in finger paint, was a picture of a book, then the word "by", then the picture of a House. Cuddy rolled her eyes as she opened the "book", unsure of what to expect.

On the inside cover was a picture of an eyeball, followed by the words "am a " and then on the left page was a picture of a donkey (aka Jack ass). See smiled as she said aloud "yes, House, you are an Ass". She closed the book and placed it back down on the table upside down when she noticed that he had written all over the back cover. She lifted it up again and quickly brought her hand to her mouth in shock. On the back cover was a picture of a house, with a heart under it, followed by the letter "u".

XXXXXXXX

It was Monday afternoon and House had just strolled in for work. He had not heard from Cuddy all weekend. Part of him was wondering if Cuddy randomly cleaned the kitchen table and tossed his heartfelt message to her before she even read it. Figures, I finally have the balls to admit my feelings for her and she mistakes it for trash, he thought. Another part of him was afraid that she got the message and just didn't care. He was trying not to think too much about option two.

He made his way to his office and threw his bag down on one of the chairs in the conference room as his team was sitting around the table waiting for his arrival. Foreman was the first to greet him with "We got a case. I have been calling you all morning"

"How did you get the case?" he asked

"Why does that matter?" Foreman answered

"It matters, because usually I get to select my cases, therefore I usually know when I have a case, therefore, I know what time to come in. Since I was unaware that I had a case there is clearly a breakdown in the process. I am trying to identify the said breakdown so I can fix the problem. Again, How did you get the case?" House was losing his patience. He could have flat out asked "did Cuddy come up to my office" but that just wasn't his style.

Foreman started to respond with a smart answer about how if House had just answered his phone this morning he would have known what time to come in but he was interrupted by Taub who was getting frustrated with the conversation "Cuddy gave us the case"

"Did she bring the case here?" House asked continued

"I arrived at 8:30 and there was a blue folder on the conference table when I arrived." Taub elaborated for House so that they all could move on.

"Interesting" House mumbled mostly to himself but in a voice that the whole room heard.

"How is that interesting?" Foreman asked

"Foreman, I don't have all day, stop asking stupid questions and tell me about the case." House announced. He needed to think about this a little further, better to get the kids on their way doing doctor stuff so he could contemplate Cuddy secret case delivery over lunch with his bestest buddy Wilson.

Foreman responded by rolling his eyes at House and Chase stepped up to the plate to fill House in on the background and admitting symptoms of the patient. After House shot down around of ideas he sent his ducklings off on the way to do his bidding.

House went back to his office and sunk into his office chair. He logged on to his computer (password LCFunbags) and opened up his top draw to pull out his earphones when he noticed a white envelope with a picture of a jackass on it. House smirked as he lifted up the envelope and stared at her very poor interpretation of a donkey. He grabbed a pencil and hesitated ever so slightly for fear of what message awaited him.

Inside was a folded 8x10 piece of paper. He pulled it out and gingerly opened it up. It was a photocopied picture of two tickets to see Dr. John at the Hammerstein Ballroom in NYC for that Friday night.

At the bottom was a note scrawled in Cuddy's left handed backward slant that read "If you want a chance to see, touch, and feel the real ones (and by that I mean the tickets!), you owe me 10 clinic hours this week"

Damn, she's good! He thought. He folded up the note, put it back in his drawer and headed off to the clinic. He could deal with a little crotch rot if it meant the chance to get Cuddy to a jazz concert in NYC.