Disclaimer…Do you really have to ask? Seriously, it can't be good for my self-esteem, repeatedly saying I own nothing. Can't I just say that I own everything in this one chapter? Just this once? No? Ok, fine, I don't own House. Big surprise there.

Author's Note…Ok, what I did to you last chapter was mean. I don't think I'll do that again, and I changed it…a little. But don't worry…nothing that's necessarily fatal…and in this instance, it won't be. I'm really looking forward to finishing this chapter because I am finding myself unable to rest until it is complete. And a happy birthday to Flamesofthemo0n! Hey, I'm only two years younger than you!

A disheveled Wilson paced the length of the Diagnostics Conference room. "Everything that she's done out of the ordinary for…the past two, three months. Last year. Little things."

House rolled his eyes. "I'm a doctor, and a father of a former cancer patient, they don't get more paternally paranoid than me."

Libby chimed in. "That is definitely true." It was only Saturday morning, but she had since recovered, if a little (or so she said) weak. The entire oncology department knew her to downplay her ailments and it was very debatable whether that was due to nature or nurture. Now she was hanging out with the medical team, listening in on her diagnosis.

Foreman and Wilson stifled a laugh. Cuddy rolled her eyes. "So nothing House?"

"Well, she's been tired lately, crampy, but I thought that was puberty…" Libby quietly groaned in embarrassment. Say it a little louder Dad, I don't think Cardiology heard you.

"What was that Libs?" House raised his eyebrows. Libby narrowed her own eyes. "I didn't say anything."

"But you were thinking something."

"I usually am."

"Ok then. Back to abnormalities…" Foreman and Chase exchanged glances. They had to admit, it was quite amusing, seeing House meet his match in the form of an eleven year old girl. "…Really bad stomach virus last week, maybe the flu with no fever or something, lost a couple pounds but I thought that was due to the virus…Libby, you got anything?"

Everyone looked towards her and out of habit, she blushed. "Ummm…not really."

Harrison frowned. "Have you been thirsty lately?"

She nodded quickly. "Yeah, but that's just because it's hot out and I'm usually running."

Harrison looked towards House. "Clinical signs of Type I Diabetes. It's a typical complication of a heart transplant."

Cuddy raised her eyebrows. It wasn't a bad diagnosis and could very well be the case although she hoped whatever was making Libby sick wasn't so chronic, but the guy had to learn to be creative. She knew House was bored to death with the doctor, what with his bland responses and total lack of life. She guessed that the only reason he didn't fire him was so he wouldn't have to deal with a new batch of interviewees. In her opinion, House could do just fine without other people's dramas.

House sighed. "Do a C-peptide test and a fasting blood glucose test. The test results should be back in a few hours, until then Libs, don't eat anything."

The team got up and left the room, leaving House and Libby alone. Libby sat upright in one chair, while House swiveled around using his cane as a lever on the other. Libby twisted her neck to see everyone leaving. "Aren't they supposed to be doing those tests on me?"

House looked up and let out a little laugh. "Yeah."

"Then where are they going?"

House tilted his head back and laughed harder. "I have no idea." He got up and started to walk down the hallway. He called out in front of him "hey Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle Dumber!"

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A few hours and two uncomfortable tests later, it was confirmed that Libby had Type 1 Diabetes Mellitus. She had already got her first insulin shot and House was trying to explain how to her how it would dictate the rest of her life.

"…And at sleepovers or something, you can just tell your friends you're shooting up!"

Libby raised her eyebrows. "Like drugs?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"Ok…try and convince my friends I'm a druggie…shouldn't be too hard…I mean, they've met me…and I won't be able to eat artificial sugars?"

"Right. But you're a health-food freak; it shouldn't be to hard an adjustment for you."

"And this is forever?"

"Yeah. Kinda sucks. But on the other side of the fence, you're better and you can go home."

Libby's eyes brightened. "Then can I go to the thing tonight?"

"You mean the thing at the place at the time?"

"Dad, the sixth grade dance! Remember! You were going to bring Aunt Lisa!"

"Oh, that thing. I don't know…you won't be able to eat much and you'll have to bring your own meal…"

"…The food will be disgusting anyway…"

"…Your little performance at the track meet yesterday might have everyone talking and I'm sure you won't want to deal with all the questions…"

"…Better I answer them now before people make up their own answers over the summer…"

"…If you get sick and it turns out you need to go to the hospital then we won't be able to get off the boat…"

"…The boat's not going to be even a mile from the shore and it has an engine if someone needs it plus they have an emergency kit…"

"…Your teacher said that everyone will dance…"

"…Everybody lies…"

House raised his eyebrows. "Niiiiice."

"So can I go?"

House rolled his head from side to side, trying to think of a last-ditch protest. "Fine."

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Cuddy was sifting through some paperwork when House stealthily crept up on her and scared her half to death.

He laughed. "So, still up for some major mosh-pitting?

Cuddy blinked, still recovering from her shock. "What?"

"Personally, I prefer to walk like an Egyptian, but that's just me."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, if you really wanted to, I'm sure I can squeeze in some belly-dancing. I have mad belly-dancing skills."

Cuddy still wasn't catching on. Her mouth hung agape. "How much Vicoden have you had today?"

"Actually, if I remember correctly from the college days, you seem to enjoy dancing on elevated grounds, particularly on bar-countertops, particularly not wearing a shirt, particularly…"

Cuddy slapped her hand over House's mouth. "I thought we agreed that little anecdote stays in Michigan," she hissed.

"Mmphophic phmamphing." Cuddy still didn't move her hand. House bit it.

"Hey!"

"Exotic dancing." Cuddy raised her eyebrows, clearly annoyed. "What? I had to finish my sentence. If biting you is the way to go, so be it!"

"What are you talking about?"

The mischief in House's eyes vanished. "Libby's dance thing. It's tonight. Still coming?"

Cuddy gave her head a little shake. This was by far the most bizarre conversation she had ever had. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. Do you have something to wear?"

House shrugged. "I don't know."

Of course he doesn't. "Well, find something. Not jeans; a t-shirt and a blazer aren't going to cut it. At least wear some nice pants."

"Fine, Mom. Pick you up at 7:15."

"We have to be there by 7:25. You don't know where it is, we won't get there in time."

"I'm very good at directions. I'll figure it out."

"I'll be ready at ten to seven."

"Then you'll be ready twenty five minutes early." He limped off in triumph. Cuddy rolled her eyes in silent anticipation.

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7:17

Cuddy paced around her apartment and surveyed her outfit for the fiftieth time. She had no idea why she was so worried; it was a sixth grade dance, that's all. Right? 7:20. House was officially five minutes late. They would never make it.

Suddenly there was a noisy rap at the door. Cuddy ran over, threw the door open, grabbed her coat and stormed down the hall. It was actually a bit cruel, considering House couldn't keep up with her working legs.

It was a warm night, but the car was frigid. Cuddy refused to talk to House, House kept his eyes trained on the road, and Libby nervously twiddled her thumbs in the backseat. The longer the silent treatment lasted, the more annoyed House got. I was just a few minutes late, so what? It's just a few minutes. We'll still make it. And why is she so passionate about this anyway? What's the point? They arrived at the dock just as the boat was about to leave. Libby immediately went down to the party room where she was mobbed by her friends, Cuddy went over to the buffet table and made small talk with the principal, and as for House, he leaned against the railing and let the sea winds caress his face. He tilted his head back and dry swallowed a Vicoden. It's going to be a long night.

Author's Note…Ok, Libby's safe. I'm relieved. And more House/Cuddy, yay! Next chapter is going to be the entire duration of the dance and the hours afterwards and I promise, it will be nothing like the last dance in this story. Chapter 19 will be very…defining and will probably be responsible for the rest of the story…I still don't know how it's going to end! Ok, please review!