Two weeks later, House had finally gotten back into the swing of things and the initial tension surrounding his return had vanished. The world around him started to seem more positive. Even House himself could admit that he hadn't been this content with his life in a long time. He had been diagnosing patients like a madman, yet the case he was attending to now had him at a roadblock. Seth Jones is a twenty-three year old male that was rushed to Princeton-Plainsboro a day ago. At a glance, he was showing symptoms of a respiratory problem. Immediately, House and the team set to work to find a diagnosis, yet they kept coming up empty.

That day, they were standing in the patient's room, deliberating on what to do. Seth was running out of time, and House knew that they had no time to waste.

He was an average guy. He had sandy blond hair that stopped just short of shoulder length, olive hued eyes, a rough face decorated with a five o'clock shadow, and a scar through his left eyebrow. He had been a football player in high school but was now studying psychology at a local community college.

"Sarcoidosis?" Foreman offered.

"Negative," House corrected. "No contributing factors leading to sarcoidosis. Try again."

"House, we're at a road block," Foreman snapped. "If we don't do something soon, we're gonna run out of time."

House opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter even a word, Seth burst into a coughing fit. He spit up blood onto the bed sheets and was struggling to breathe.

At that moment, Cuddy appeared in the room. She quickly noted that House's team had the situation under control and called out to him, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

House eyed her incredulously and motioned to his patient, "Can it wait? My patient is doing something disgusting."

"House. Now."

Rolling his eyes, House followed the Dean out into the hallway. He stopped in front of her, "What's so important that you have to grab my attention now?"

"I need a favor."

"Oh?"

Cuddy's eyes filled with dread, "Marina has some kind of flu, Wilson is working late tonight, my mom is out of time...so...I was wondering-"

"If I could babysit?" House interjected.

Her face twisted into a frown. "Yes. Would you?"

"Seriously? Where are you going to be?" He threw up his hands in protest.

"I'm also working late."

"Depending on what my patient has coughed up since you dragged me away, I might be working late too," He taunted, trying desperately to get out of babysitting.

"That's not guaranteed," Cuddy pointed out.

"Doesn't have to be," He objected. "At least it's on the table."

"House, please. I need you to do this for me."

House saw the pleading gleam in her eyes and knew he would be in for it big time if he didn't consent. With much reluctance, he sighed, "Fine."

"Thank you," She said, a genuine smile flooding her features. "It'll only be for a couple hours at the most."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," He muttered. "I need to get back to my patient. Hopefully he didn't cough up his whole damn lung while I was gone."

"Your team had it under control."

"I know...I'm just saying, if the patient could actually cough up his lung, that would be one event I would not want to miss," House explained, an amused expression growing on his face.

"You're sick," Cuddy complained, yet she too was smiling.

He turned to walk away but stopped and face her one more time, "You love me."

Cuddy chuckled to herself, "Sometimes."

House suppressed his laughter and left her in the hallway.

If anyone had ever told Lisa Cuddy that she would be asking House to ever babysit for her, she would call them crazy. But now, she saw the bond between her daughter and House. He was practically Rachel's hero. She adored the man and House tolerated her. She knew the arrangement could work for a night. She trusted House to come through for her this time.

She felt as if she was testing him and in her own little way, she was. Cuddy caught herself praying that he would pass the test.