A/N: Thanks to all those reading this. Special thanks to Clinic Duty, Cherokee Jedi, Revelo1630 and tracyhepburnfan for offering feedback and hearing my ideas along the way!


House pulled up in front of Cuddy's house just after eight-thirty. She climbed off the bike and looked at him.

"Thank you." She smiled at him and hoped he understood the significance of her words.

"You're welcome." He understood, all too clearly.

"I..." She started to say but couldn't get the words out. There was so much she wanted to say to him. Where had her courage gone? The best she could do was to look him in the eyes and hope she accurately conveyed to him what she could not express in words.

"Yeah." House nodded as if he understood. And he did. He wanted to respond but he couldn't seem to find the right words.

But they both knew at that moment, that everything had changed.

She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it reassuringly then turned and walked up the sidewalk to her front door, never looking back as she closed the door behind her.

House sat there for a moment, the bike idling, as he watched her go into the house. When she closed the door, he backed the bike out of her driveway and drove off.


It was just early afternoon on Tuesday and Cuddy was mopping the floor in her kitchen. She stopped and took a moment to wipe the sweat from her brow. She'd been at it for hours, having started a thorough cleaning and organizing of her house the previous morning after House dropped her off. She'd slept a few hours during the night but woke up early to get started on the final room to be done. Cleaning and organizing helped her work through her problems and sort through the many things on her mind, one of which was a stubble-faced, blue-eyed diagnostician who made her life crazy...the kind of crazy she secretly thrived on.

House.

It had only been a day since she'd seen him and she missed him already. She thought about the kiss they'd shared, their first kiss since college. With it, every old feeling she'd ever had for him resurged with a vengeance. At that moment she'd known he wanted more because she did too. And yet it took them every ounce of strength not to give in. So much was at stake, one wrong move, one wrong word, and it could end and be more painful than either of them could imagine. And so they continued holding off, but for how long was anyone's guess.

She was just getting ready to finish the floor when she heard a knock on the door. It wasn't the tell-tale knock with a cane that she was used to so she wondered who it was. She leaned the mop against the door frame between the kitchen and living room and went to the front door. When she opened it, she was greeted by Emily's mother Joan.

"Hello, Lisa," Joan said with a smile.

"Joan, it's so good to see you." The two women embraced.

"How are you?" Cuddy asked.

"I'm good. One day at a time. You?"

"I took some time off...just to breathe."

"I understand."

Would you like to come in?"

"I wish I could but I have to be somewhere. I stopped by to bring you something." She reached into her bag and took out a book and handed it to Cuddy.

Cuddy's eyes filled with tears as she ran her fingers over the cover of the book Goodnight, Moon.

Joan nodded. "It was her favorite book. We wanted you to have it."

"Thank you."

"Lisa, you only knew her for a short time but you brought great joy to her life."

"She did that for me too."

"I know. She was so young and yet her strength and courage inspired us all. The best thing we can do to honor her life is to make the most of ours. We should be happy. You should be happy. Find a good man Lisa, fall in love, have that family you want."

Cuddy swallowed hard. They'd discussed children a few times, but Cuddy never went into detail about her problems conceiving.

"You make it sound easy."

"It's not. Not by a long shot. But trust me, when you finally get it, you wonder why you waited so long."

They smiled at one another and embraced.

"Please keep in touch."

Cuddy whispered through her tears. "I will."

House watched as the SUV pulled away. He sat on his bike, just down the street from her house, close enough to see what was going on but far enough where no one would notice him.

He wasn't sure what he would say when he saw her. They hadn't talked since he'd dropped her off yesterday morning and what happened between them had kept him up for hours the previous night. Well that and the pain. He'd stared for a long time at the bottle of Vicodin and it took every ounce of strength he had not to take more pills. He wanted to but something stopped him. He had this desire to be clear-headed around her, he wanted to savor every moment. He wasn't sure how long whatever this was would last and so he wanted to remember it. The down side to not taking as many pills, was that his leg seemed to hurt more.

She heard the sound of the cane against her door and leaned against it for a moment before she opened it.

"House," she said.

"I was in the neighborhood." He noticed her eyes were glassy and wondered if it had something to do with her visitor.

"What do you want?" She didn't intend for it to come off rude but she suddenly wasn't in the mood for company.

"Can't one friend check up on another?"

"Is that what this is?"

He shrugged and looked over her appreciatively in her shorts which showed off her spectacular legs, the tank top that barely covered her ample breasts and old tattered sneakers. Her hair was tied up with a bandanna and her face and neck glistened with sweat.

Cuddy's face flushed and she diverted her attention to the hand he had behind his back, she looked at him suspiciously. "What's that?"

"Peace offering." He held up a bouquet of wildflowers.

"Peace? What did you do?" She asked, hands on her hips.

"Why do I always have to have done something wrong? Why can't I just do something nice?"

She was hesitant. "Well...they are pretty and oddly familiar," she said upon closer inspection. And just what she needed.

"I stole them from your neighbor's yard."

She shook her head. "You're an ass you know that?"

"So you keep telling me. Are you going to take them?" He held the bouquet out to her again.

She had to admit it was a beautiful array of colors and for him to do it made it that much more significant. She took them and stepped aside letting him in. He limped ahead of her and she closed the door behind them. She went past him into the kitchen to get a vase and he followed her. He leaned against the refrigerator watching from behind as she reached into an upper cabinet to get a vase.

Cuddy was no fool, she felt his eyes on her. "Are you staring at my ass?" she asked, without turning around.

"Absolutely not," he replied, smugly.

She smirked knowing otherwise. She suddenly felt the somber mood lift just a little. He had that effect on her. She filled the vase and placed it on the windowsill. She stood back admiring it.

"So you wanna tell me what's wrong?" He asked, standing next to her leaning on the cabinets.

She didn't look at him, just gazed at the flowers. She didn't feel like talking but she didn't feel like deflecting or lying about it either.

"Emily's mother brought by a book she wanted me to have, it was the one I read to her," she said, sadly. "I guess now you're going to tell me how stupid it is to get sentimental over a book."

"Nope," he said, sincerely.

Cuddy leaned over the sink and braced her hands on the edges of the counter on each side of it. "It's not fair," she said. "Kids shouldn't die so young. There's a lot of assholes on this earth who do terrible things to people. They rape, murder, abuse...why do they get to live and innocent kids have to die?" She looked at House as if he had the answer but he just shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "It's just life. It's not fair but it is what it is."

"That's so cliche," she said, slightly annoyed.

"No, it's the truth. We could sit here all day long and debate why things happen but in the end, it doesn't change anything. Things happen and that's that. And you," he pointed his cane at her, "need to stop feeling so damn guilty."

"I can't help it."

He smirked. Of course she couldn't.

"Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do," he mused.

"What?" She asked, puzzled.

"Voltaire...sort of," he said. "Cuddy, you can't take on the guilt of every single person you can't save."

"I know."

He tried a different angle. In a softer voice, he said, "I know I give you a lot of hell for not having been a real doctor for years now but the truth is...I'm an ass and I don't really mean it. I know that every day you fight bureaucracy and lawyers and bean counters so that we can do our jobs. Your decisions result in an awful lot of lives being saved. It's a hell of a job Cuddy and nobody could do it like you do. So instead of focusing on the lives you can't save, how about focusing on the ones you can? They matter."

Cuddy's heart was lighter at his words. They were honest and heartfelt. His opinion of her had always mattered more than most others. She knew that he respected and appreciated what she did and for him to say it meant the world to her. Most of all though, she knew he was right and she told him so and then she thanked him.

"You're welcome," he said. "You feeling better now?" He asked.

"Yeah, actually I do." And she really did. It brought her great comfort that she could always count on him to be straight up with her. Others thought his approach was rude but to her it was refreshing. It wasn't just something she wanted, it was something she needed.

"Okay good, so..." he rubbed his hands together impatiently. "What do you say we blow this joint?"

"Actually I'm kinda busy," she said. Though her mood had lifted substantially just by him being there, she really wasn't in the mood to go anywhere.

"Oh come on Cuddy, you've been cleaning since we got back, you could eat off the floor and probably the toilets too by now."

"That's gross."

"And true," he said. "Come on, go out with me...tonight."

Her jaw dropped at the sincerity of his request and in his eyes she could see he was completely serious. "You mean...a date?" She asked.

He tapped his cane on the floor. "If you prefer, just call it...two friends getting dressed up and going to a nice restaurant."

She felt butterflies in her stomach. A date with House. A real date. The logical next step. She swallowed hard and thought up a reply.

"We shouldn't," she said, probably too quickly.

"Why not?"

Searching for something, anything she blurted out, "We work together. I'm your boss."

"Seriously? What's your point? I mean what have we been doing the last few days?"

"Just...I mean...are we ready for that?" She asked.

He laughed out loud. "It's just dinner."

"House," she said, crossing her arms and looking straight into his eyes. "Is it?"


That night, Cuddy sat on her couch with her legs up, reading a book, a glass of wine on the table next to her and music playing low on the stereo. She'd spent the rest of the day alone after House left, finishing up her cleaning followed by a long, hot bath, and a leisurely dinner.

House had been oddly easygoing about her turning him down for dinner. She'd asked him point blank in two words if it really was just dinner. He didn't reply with words but his expression said it all. His eyes were bright, he seemed almost amused, and the look...she could swear he was answering her question with a question of his own. Then he'd bid her goodbye, he said he'd call her later. When he left he seemed perfectly content...which in itself still took time to get used to.

She turned another page in her book when her cell phone buzzed on the table next to her. Putting down the glass of wine, she picked it up. It was a text from House. Her stomach fluttered thinking that he'd kept his word.

Wilson's drunk as hell.

Cuddy chuckled and texted back.

Where are you?

Wait, let me look.

She waited patiently and a few moments later he returned her text.

Oddly enough it's called Gregory's.

You're not driving are you?

At the moment?

Be serious.

No I'm not driving. I'm barely drunk.

I find that hard to believe.

Okay I'm a little drunk.

She shook her head.

Please don't drive.

No worries, we took a cab.

Good. Hope you're having fun.

She didn't hear from him for a few more minutes and figured he gave up until it buzzed again.

You should go out with me.

He was insistent. She decided to have a little fun.

Why?

Because I'm a catch.

She laughed out loud.

Of course you are.

Seriously. Brigitte said so.

Brigitte?

Hooker.

House!

Kidding. Waitress. I think Wilson's gonna score.

What about Kelly?

?

Large breasts...

Oh. She humped him.

What?

Oops. Damn autocorrect. She dumped him.

After one date?

She neglected to mention the boyfriend.

Oh.

So...you should go out with me.

You said that.

You said I was quick-witted, charming & great looking.

No. YOU said that.

Oh yeah. Doesn't make it less true.

Of course not.

A few minutes went by and nothing. She set her phone down when it buzzed one more time. She sighed and grabbed it.

Be ready tomorrow afternoon. I'll pick you up around noon. Dress casual. Bra optional.

She laughed.

Where are we going?

As she waited for his reply she wondered what he had in mind. She normally wasn't one for surprises but House was the exception and he never disappointed. He was creative and fun and always left her wanting more. She smiled. It was one of his many endearing qualities. When it came to him, there was never a dull moment.

She set the phone down and picked up her book but with every few sentences she glanced over at her phone as if somehow staring at it would make it buzz with another text.

Frustrated at her inability to pay attention to her book. She had to laugh at herself because as he had so often done, he left her wondering about his next move. She didn't know what his was, but she knew hers. She reached over and picked up the phone and switched it off. She smirked knowingly then picked up her glass of wine, took a sip and went back to her book.