House was frowning as he looked over the edge of the building. "How'd you know where to look?"

Cuddy hesitated, not wanting him to take the tracking device out of his phone. "The neighbor across the hall dimed you out."

He lowered his head, still looking at the scenery in front of them.

"If you're still going to jump, let me know. So I can say goodbye."

He looked grumpily at her. "You're a bitch."

He turned around and limped away from the edge, pulling his relieved friend along. They were quiet for awhile, as he looked down at their linked wrists; then he raised their hands. "That's a pretty bold move. It's unlike you."

"I watch movies. And I knew you wouldn't kill me."

"You just walk around with these all the time?"

"No. No, I knew you were bound to do something else that was stupid."

He still wouldn't look at her, and now he wouldn't speak. Desperate to keep the conversation going, she finally decided to quote the movie that had inspired her to put the handcuffs in her purse. "'You know, your beard's getting gray. Kind of makes you look old.'"

His eyes flicked to her and he smiled then. "I believe there's more to that line."

She averted her eyes, as a soft pink color swept across her cheeks.

"You going to finish?" he pressed.

Cuddy looked at him. "Not until I know you're going to stick around."

House studied the evident sadness in her eyes, and was suddenly very aware of the metallic weight on his wrist. He lowered his head again, maintaining eye contact.

"Why don't you just admit it was a stupid thing to do?"

"Butting into my business, knowing what I did to the last person who butted into my business. That's a stupid thing to do."

She smiled at him, smugly. "I'm not letting you go until you say it was stupid."

House looked at her. His eyes were blue fire. "What it was is none of your business."

"Wrong answer. Start working on your apology." She turned and started dragging him into the building. She could hear him grunting as her arm was slowed down.

"Hey, hey—easy! I just got stabbed in the gut."

"Then it's a good thing you're not crawling on your belly."

House yanked on his cuffed arm, making her stumble backwards. She turned around, biting her bottom lip. "You made me do this," she told him.

"I don't even want you here!"

"I know. You want Stacy. Too bad you chased her away like everybody else who ever gave a crap! All you had to do was not speak. Something you excel at, so why the hell did you open your mouth?"

He looked away, down the stairwell. "I don't know," he finally muttered. "I do know I'm not sorry."

"Again. Wrong answer!"

House set his jaw before responding. Contradictory to the fire in his eyes, his voice was cold as ice. "It is not the wrong answer."

"Yes, it—"

"Will you just shut up and listen?" House barked, and Cuddy closed her eyes, listening to the echo of his voice fade. "My life is none of your business. And my death is none of your business. So unlock me, go do whatever it is that you do these days, and leave me alone." With those final three words he leaned in, and Cuddy stared into his looming eyes.

She looked away, struggling to regain composure before returning her eyes to his. "House, I would sooner flush the key than let you go kill yourself. You may not know this. But for some reason beyond understanding, I still give a crap."

He sighed, looking down. "Give me the key."

"No!"

House's eyes flashed and he raised the cane. "Give me the key!"

"Do you honestly expect me to believe you're going to hit me?"

House glared at her a moment longer, then let the bottom of the cane bang onto the floor. "You're a bitch," he repeated. She smiled and began leading him down the first flight of stairs. He sighed, struggling to keep up with one good leg and no free hand for the balustrade. "Cameron never would have cuffed me."

"That's why she's not here. And why you still are." She shrugged, looking at where she was going. "Being a bitch pays off."

"I would argue that, but the more people you lose, the more money you lose. And then who would pay for your slutty shirts?"

She looked at him. "You can't honestly think that."

"Right. What was I thinking? Something that can't live or die, certainly can't think."

"Your life matters, House! I don't know why that's so hard for you to believe!" They stepped off onto the landing, where House stopped to catch his breath. She turned to face him, watching his hand shake atop the cane. "You have saved I don't know how many people. Now if their lives are important, why isn't yours?"

House looked up at her, breathing raggedly. "It's what I did."

She smirked at him. "I'd rather be a bitch than a hypocrite."

"Really?"

"Honestly...yeah. If I were a hypocrite, there's a chance I'd go from caring about you to not caring." She raised her eyebrows at him. He stood up straight and they continued to descend, and looking over at him Cuddy saw that he was smiling.

Three of his neighbors were conversing by the mailboxes. Seeing him with a beautiful woman, they stopped talking to greet them. "House, are you busy tonight?"

"Actually, yes." House raised their cuffed hands to demonstrate, scaring them into silence. "No, it's okay. It's purely sexual. She's the most passionate prostitute I ever met."

Cuddy gaped in mortified shock as House pulled her into his apartment.