Part 37

Cuddy kissed House until she couldn't breathe and they were both speechless.

When she pulled her mouth away, she pressed her brow to his and tried to steady her heart. The man knew exactly what to say and when to say it — even when he didn't know. It was a paradox that she wasn't sure he knew existed, brilliant as he was.

Eventually, he was the one who broke the silence. "You okay?"

Cuddy nodded, her nose brushing against his. She wanted to kiss him again and would have if she hadn't heard the door open.

Looking over, she saw a beaming Rachel holding a pizza box. Stacy, who'd kept Rachel for the night, was right behind her and looked pointedly between Cuddy and House. Even though there was no reason to, Cuddy blushed and moved away from the bedside to pull around the food tray for House.

It was then Cuddy noticed he was watching Rachel with a bit of confusion. She'd seen that look before and assured him, keeping her voice quiet so her daughter wouldn't hear, "You didn't hallucinate."

"Momma said I could have pizza, House," Rachel said then, holding up the box.

"Pepperoni?" House regrouped.

Rachel nodded.

He cocked his head and looked down at her, raising his eyebrow high and asking. "You sharing?"

A bright smile burst across Rachel's face. "Yes, silly. Momma's gonna have some, too."

Both sets of eyes turned to Cuddy, but it was House who spoke, his tone incredulous, "You don't say?"

"Don't worry," Stacy said to Cuddy as she neared. "I found you a vegetarian one." She held a smaller pizza box.

"Vegetarian pizza? I'm pretty sure that's just a box of pure evil," House scoffed dramatically from the bed.

Rachel giggled. Cuddy rolled her eyes. Stacy told him to shut up as she handed off the box to Cuddy with an order to "go eat."

Leaving Stacy to put the big box up where House could eat, Cuddy sat in the chair by the bed and opened the box. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until the smell of the contents did a number on her olfactory senses. It even looked appetizing, topped with fresh spinach, tomato slices, and herbs. She might have to change her opinion on pizza — at least for today.

"I wanna sit with House."

Rachel's request drew Cuddy's attention away from the food to her daughter who stood at the bedside, looking as if she was about to climb up. Cuddy quickly sat her food aside, onto the other chair, and moved to catch Rachel before she could do so.

"House's leg is hurt, honey," Cuddy told her. "We have to be careful."

"You can put her up here."

House's words surprised her. Much as he'd been a playmate with Rachel at times, he'd also been exceptionally cautious about his leg around a child who liked to jump on and run into everything.

"You're sure?" Cuddy asked.

He looked at Rachel.

"You're not going to jump on me, are you?"

Rachel shook her head.

He cast a skeptical look from under his brow at her. "Promise?"

Another nod. "Promise."

"Okay. Bring the napkins."

And that was it.

Cuddy shook her head in amusement and helped her daughter settle into a safe place on the bed then gave her a handful of napkins, which Rachel promptly held out to House.

He took them then pulled out a big slice and folded it to take a big bite. "That's fantastic!" he exclaimed even though his mouth was full. It made Rachel laugh and reach for her own piece.

Cuddy watched Stacy lend a hand, laying a napkin across Rachel's lap then helping to tear the piece into a size easier for little hands to manage.

Once the two on the bed were settled, Stacy passed out water bottles and came over and sat beside Cuddy.

"Get any rest?" Stacy asked as Cuddy picked up a piece of her own pizza.

"Some," Cuddy replied and held out the box to Stacy to see if she wanted to share.

Stacy shook her head. "I have a lunch appointment."

That caught House's ear. "About me?" he asked.

"We'll talk later," Stacy replied in a tone that said the subject would be addressed later. House wisely heeded her direction but Cuddy could tell he wanted to talk about it. Cuddy wanted to know Stacy's plans, too, but with Rachel in the room, it probably wasn't a good idea.

"She's a great kid," Stacy said to Cuddy, who couldn't help but smile with pride.

Nodding and wiping her mouth with a napkin, Cuddy agreed, "I'm lucky."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," came House's voice, from around a mouthful of pizza. "It's called real parenting."

It was said so matter-of-factly but his gaze communicated anything but matter-of-fact. It was fixed pointedly on Cuddy, telegraphing that he meant every word he'd said, and not clinically. He'd never actually complimented her on that aspect of her life, at least not so directly and definitely not in front of anyone else.

Cuddy didn't know what to say but Stacy saved her from trying to find words, asking House curiously, "And what is real parenting, exactly?"

"Unconditional love and nurturing," he said as he continued to eat. "Providing necessities, education, and a safe environment. Constructive guidance, building a sense of self-worth and independence. Anything else is abuse or neglect, which is its own form of abuse."

"And when did this come to you?" Stacy asked, sounding dumbfounded. It made Cuddy wonder if they'd ever discussed having children when they were together, if Stacy'd ever met House's father or if House had ever talked about his childhood.

House stopped eating and wiped his mouth on a napkin. Then he answered in jaw-dropping and heart-rending fashion, his expression at once stoic and grave.

"During a disciplinary ice bath when I was eight years old."