Cuddy closed the door as House's phone began to ring. He sighed, staring longingly at the couch so many feet away. The next thing he knew, she reached into his pocket, answered the call and held it up to his ear for him. He blinked into her eyes and spoke into the phone. "Yeah? Yes, sir." He listened for awhile, then rolled his eyes. "Well, gosh, there must be some mistake! I don't feel dead. You know what, I think I have to call my parents." He moved his head away from the phone and Cuddy hung up. House shook his head. "People have been calling to check for ten years. Damn that Foreman."

"You did this."

She flinched as his cane clattered to the floor, and suddenly he'd reached into her pocket and was uncuffing them. "Did you just cop a feel?" she asked.

He just grinned at her as he retrieved his cane.

"I'm not leaving, House."

"Did I ask?" he shot back, as he limped to the kitchen. Cuddy rolled her eyes and strode after him.

"What are you doing?"

He looked at her, flicking on the lights. "I'm making a sandwich."

"I'll supervise."

House squinted, making a face. "Pretty sure I can handle it."

"You know what I mean." She sat on the stool and shook back her hair. "I need to make sure you don't try anything."

"Okay. I know you're a girl, but I don't have a problem with making it a knuckle sandwich."

Cuddy raised her brows. "'It's alright, I still love you,'" she finally finished the quote.

House didn't move. He didn't blink. "Damn," he finally said. "Well played."

Cuddy rested her chin in her hand and smiled at him. He opened the fridge and disappeared behind the door, reemerging with the condiments. "So you're actually going to stay here and make sure I use the mayonnaise?"

"And that your bath doesn't end with you dead."

"Huh." House uncapped the mayonnaise. "Which side of the door will you be supervising that?"

She leaned on the table, looking up at him. "I'm worried about you. I want you to be okay. And no," she added. "I'm not the only one."

"You don't need to do this."

She paused, staring up at him. "Are you kidding me, House? You can't pretend you weren't just going to jump off the roof!"

"I thought the goal here was to put it behind us."

Cuddy covered her eyes. "Oh, I've got to put you in a home," she moaned, and ran her hands through her hair.

"Well, gee. That's a depressing thought."

"Sorry. From now on, we're going to be happy. Why don't you start a movie and I'll be right in."

House nodded, studying her. "Okay."

"Pick something happy," she added, as she left the kitchen. Entering the bathroom, she quietly closed the door and took out her phone, dialing a contact. Leaning against the counter, she smiled as Taub answered his phone. "Hi. It's Cuddy."

"What can I do for you?"

"I just found House about to commit suicide. I stopped him. And I'm going to watch over him, but I think he needs to feel useful. So...do you think you can invent a case you can't solve without him?"

"Oh, I have years of practice at failure. I'll call him now."

"Thanks, Chris."

They hung up and Cuddy exited the washroom. House was sitting on the couch, staring at the movies on the shelf. "So, what are we watching?" she asked, joining him.

"I really...don't care. At all." His eyes briefly met hers before he looked away. "I can't just pretend I wasn't going to jump off a roof."

She sat beside him and leaned against the back, putting a hand on his leg. "I know."

For a moment, the apartment was quiet. Then House's phone began to ring. He leaned to retrieve it off the coffee table. "It's Taub," he said needlessly, and answered the phone. "What?"

Cuddy turned her head to look at him, watching the darkness vanish from his eyes like a light bulb had been turned on. House put the phone against his shoulder and looked at Cuddy. "I have to take this."

She nodded, and when he got up and limped away, she smiled to herself.