Disclaimer…I don't own anything.

Author's Note…I apologize for the delay in updates (in all my stories) but my internet has been down which is kinda stinky. So anyways, here's the latest chapter; enjoy and review please! Oh, and sorry if I screwed up the chronological order of events in real life…oh well. It's not that big a deal. Also…as of the year 2005, there highest possible SAT score is a 2400.

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3 Years Later…Libby's Senior Year in High School

Libby stared at the thin, white envelope in her hand. It was open, but she hadn't read the letter it was containing. Fast and painless, be damned. She narrowed her eyes. "You're ugly."

"I bet you smell."

"You probably don't have any friends."

"People who smell never have friends."

"Especially if they're as ugly as you."

"And I bet you pick your nose."

This was the state House and Wilson found her in at 10:30 one evening. House crept up behind her quietly behind her and whispered, pretending to be the envelope. "And I bet you're crazy. Only crazy people talk to inanimate objects, like envelopes. Snappage."

Libby jumped a mile in the air. "What the heck, Dad?"
"It wasn't me! It was that slutty, ugly, nose-picking, loner-of-an-envelope that did it! Don't blame the innocent!"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. Also, good call on the slutty. I heard it even came on to the mailman and it made impure jokes to the bills."

"The bills! They're still virgins!"

"Oh really? I didn't know; good thing you told me or it could have led to some very awkward conversations."

"Don't even make a hint that you will make a hint about not…being…a…"

Wilson sighed. He suspected that Libby did this on purpose…it was the only topic that made House this uncomfortable and even he had to admit; it was quite amusing. "What's in the envelope? Your Planned Parenthood test results?"

"Oh, don't even bring that up again." Wilson laughed, reminiscing of the time Libby had prank called House, claiming to be a worker from Planned Parenthood, asking for Libby so she could give her "the test results."

Libby held the envelope away from herself, as if it was a time-bomb. Which was a pretty good assessment. "My SAT scores."

"Cool. Let me see." House reached out to grab it, but Libby moved her hand too fast for him.

"What the heck?"

"It's private."

"She's right."

"I'm her father. I have to have some privileges."

"It's her news to share."

"It's my news to hear."

"That makes no sense."

"You're not a father. You don't understand privileges."

"I understand them just fine."

"Do not."

"Do to."

"Do not"

"Do to."

Meanwhile, Libby was carefully reading the letter. Her jaw dropped and her smile widened.

"Do not."

"Do to."

"Do not."

"2340."

Both men looked at her. "What?"

"That was my score. 2300."

"And that's out of…that's out of 2400, right?"

Libby nodded slowly, as if she was still digesting the news. "Yeah. 2400. 2300."

Wilson gaped. "That's like getting a…a…"

"95 or 96." Libby answered for him, courtesy of an automatic calculator in her head. It just kept sending off more and more alarm signals.

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A Few Months Later…

Wilson rushed into House and Cuddy's apartment and slammed the door. He dropped his suitcase, threw his jacket on the floor, walked away from it (he would pay for that later), and tossed his empty coffee cup into the sink. Hastily rubbing his shoes into the welcome mat shaped like an…Eskimo, Wilson nearly fell flat on his face in his rush.

"Libby?"

No answer.

"Libby!"

Nothing.

"LIBBY!"

Finally, Libby emerged from her room in a loose fitting t-shirt and tight-fitting denim capris that were once jeans. There was paint smeared all over her outfit and face, and Libby's hair, which normally hung in a sweet half-up/half-down style, was in a messy ponytail. This was her painting outfit, which she wore quite often throughout her high school years as she got more and more involved in her art. But she had been wearing it even more frequently as she was working on her final piece of her application for the Pratt School of Design. Everyone was dying to see what it was, but Libby refused them over and over again, telling them they would see when it's finished. All they knew was the topic, which was My Inspiration, but somehow this tiny scrap of information somehow made the trio even more intrigued. Wilson rolled his eyes. "Still working on that thing?"

"Yep."

"There's a law, you know. About withholding such major information from parents and guardians. What you're doing is definitely illegal."

"Actually, life behind bars is looking pretty good next to stressing over this thing."

"I hear talking about it is supposed to take a lot off your shoulders."

"Nearly got me there. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"It was my turn to find out if you got any early-acceptance letters…!"

It was Libby's turn to roll her eyes. "Monday it was Dad, Tuesday it was Aunt Lisa, today it's you… is this like some endless cycle or something? And besides, it might be early-rejection letters, which is making me work even harder on this stupid thing. Hey, you think Dad would mind if I decided I don't want to go to college?"

Wilson snickered. "Come on Libby, you know you're into Michigan. Just because you haven't got the letter yet…"

"And just because I got a letter from them last year saying they want me to apply doesn't mean I got in. Maybe someone with better track times and better grades and better ambition applied and took the last spot for the early acceptances. And maybe once Pratt finds out that I applied to all my other schools beforehand they'll think they were an afterthought and…oh my gosh, that can't happen, can it?"

Wilson had to laugh at the panic on Libby's face. She was so scared about this, it was funny. This was the girl that had faced childhood cancer, a literally broken heart, a single parent, living with House and she was terrified over one little letter?

"It's not funny."

"Yes it is! Look at yourself, you're worrying over nothing. Worst comes to worst, you've got your safety schools."

Libby shrugged. "I guess."

"Speaking of which…" Libby groaned. "What? I need to be sure. Have you gotten any letters yet?"

Libby nodded. Wilson gave an unflattering yelp of excitement. "Wait a minute-were they rejection-letters?"

"Way to rephrase it. I've had them for a while…one for five days already. And I don't know…I've been too nervous to open them."

"I'll do it!"

"Oh, very sensitive."

"The sooner someone does it, the sooner it's over with, the sooner you know."

Libby sighed. "I see your point. Fine. But if…just don't be too disappointed if I don't get in anywhere."

"Libs, you can't ever disappoint me. Now where are those letters?"

"Follow me." Wilson trailed after Libby as she purposely strode into her bedroom. Wilson snuck a peak at the Pratt application (it was covered so he couldn't see anything) before he took a seat on her bed as she pulled a bin containing three very fat envelopes and one thin one out from under it. She placed it on the bed and sat on the other side of it, so the box was in between them.

"This is it?"

"What more were you expecting?"

"Libby, you definitely got into these three big ones! I don't know about the other one but…"

"Stop making me nervous. Just open it. Please."

"What order?"

"Umm…that one first." She pointed to a thick one with a Princeton address.

"Ahh…this is your dad's second choice."

"I know!"

"Ok, ok." Wilson carefully broke the seal. It was almost ceremonial and somehow it felt right that he was the one doing this with her. Wilson slipped his hand in and pulled out a fancy piece of paper. He read aloud:

"Dear Ms. House-Ms. House, can you believe it?"

"Uncle Jimmy!"

"All right, all right…Dear Ms. House…Thank you for your outstanding application. Princeton University is pleased to offer you a place in the class of…oh my…YOU GOT IN!"

"I got in?"

"You're in!"

Libby shrieked and hugged Wilson with tears rolling down her face. Wilson realized that his eyes were a tad wet too. He shook Libby's shoulders in congratulations. "I told you! I told you!"

Libby laughed and nodded. "Oh my gosh…I got into frickin' Princeton University!"

"I know! I know! Libby, I am just so proud of you…I mean wow. That's crazy. Princeton. You can stay at home and go to school."

Libby nodded. "That's why Dad wanted me to apply in the first place. Ok, next one. Let's do the…smallest one."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I want to get it over with."

"Ok…it's from Georgetown…nice, applying to my alma mater…ok, here we go…Dear Ms. House…Thank you for your application to Georgetown University. The Office of Admissions has added your name to a wait list. The office will inform you of your status on or before June 8…wait-listed? The heck? That's crazy. You…"

"It's ok…I only applied there because my guidance counselor said that if schools see you making ambitious applications, it will look good. I don't know how they would find out, but whatever. I could still get in, anyway. Let's move on, shall we?"

"We shall. This one's from Penn State…nice…Dear Ms. House…The Office of Admissions was impressed with your application. We are pleased to invite you to join our class of…Penn State. Holy cow. You're on a roll today."

Libby grinned. "I can't believe it. I mean…" She rolled on her back onto the bed and wiggled her toes, her favorite sign of excitement. Quirky, but cute. "Ok, last one. I think it's from Michigan."

"It is. Dun dun dun! This is the big one…if you get in here; you get to see not only Aunt Lisa get all nostalgic…but also your Dad…"

"Dun dun dun!"

Wilson took on a movie-phone voice. "This is the numero uno…let's begin…Dear Ms. House…"

"Very original."

Wilson looked at Libby. She was obviously the most nervous about this one, her fingers were shaking. "Good procrastination skills."

"I've been practicing."

"Ok, here we go..." Wilson read silently for a couple minutes with a very serious face. Libby started biting her nails. Finally, he looked up. "Libby, I just want you to know that no matter what this letter says, everyone is very proud of you. You are an outstanding girl…even Princeton says so…but no stupid letter from a college will change what you've already accomplished. That said…"

Libby bit her lip.

"…you are IN!"

Libby sat there in silence for a moment, obviously expecting rejection but digesting admission. After rubbing her blurry eyes she turned to Wilson. "That was so cruel…but seriously? I'm into Michigan?"

"You're into Michigan!"

Libby jumped up and ran from the room, leaving a very confused Wilson alone. At last, she came back but was hiding something behind her. "Uncle Jimmy, I want you to put those letters away right now please."

She spoke in such a cool and collected voice that Wilson instantly complied. Once they were safely under the bed, Libby pulled out the thermos-sized cup of cool water and spilled it all over Wilson. He blinked in surprise and wiped his eyes to see a guilty looking Libby in front of him.

"And that, my dear Watson, is called revenge."

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Fifteen minutes later, a slightly-damp Wilson and a still very paint-y Libby arrived at PPTH. They raced each other up the stairs to the Diagnostics Department. After only two minutes and sixteen seconds ("Short-Shorts" was always timing her, especially on stair-cases) Libby rushed into the conference room to find Foreman, Chase, and Harrison sitting idly around, with House no where in sight. "Hey. Where's my dad?"

"What's with the hurry? Don't you have time for your Uncle Ewic anymaw?"

"I just got to find him. Is he in the lab?"

Foreman was still wondering at how Libby missed his imitation of her at age three. It was so blatantly obvious he was teasing her. Must be really important. "No, you just missed him. He went down to the clinic."

"The ONE time!"

Libby ran out the door just as Wilson came panting in. Foreman looked questioningly at him. "What was that all about?"

Wilson's smiled stretched right from one ear to the other. "She got in."

Chase's eyes widened but he was grinning. "Where to?"

"Michigan, Penn State, and…Princeton."

Foreman cheered and pumped his fist in the air as Chase and Harrison exchanged high-fives. The four men exchanged an awkward hug and the rest of the day, snuck each other meaningful smiles.

Ahhh, male-bonding.

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While this little scene which House would have loved to mock was taking place, Libby was playing a wild-goose chase. This is ridiculous. It's a hospital-where could he go?

Finally, she heard the familiar thump of a cane. "Dad!"

And for a second, House's heart stopped. His daughter's voice was filled with such raw emotion, he was terrified of the worst…there were a million possibilities: Her bones may have felt the achyness of relapse; her body may be rejecting the heart…

But there she was, happy as a clam. She wrapped her arms around him, the tears still falling.

"Dad…"

"Yeah?"

"Dad…I got in."

His jaw dropped. Slammed into the floor. Shattered into a million pieces. "In…in where?"

"College, Dad!"

"Well, I know that. I'm not Wilson. Come on, tell me where."

"Dad. You know there's a magic word."

"You mean the one we use to make the sailors blush?"

"Dad!"

"Fine. Please tell me where."

"Thank you. Ok…you ready?"

"Libby!"

"Penn State…Princeton…and before I do the last one I just want to tell you that I got wait-listed for Georgetown, ok?"

House was barely even paying attention to the last part. All he heard was the unsaid: Ivy League. "What's the last one?"

Libby said it so quietly House wasn't even sure he heard her right. In fact, he made her repeat it six more times until the duo were yelling it down the hallway that one Abigail Kayla House had gotten into Michigan University.

It was the cry heard all the way to Heaven. And up there; someone was cheering too.

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Author's Note…Woohoo! She got in! Ok...so anyways, I have a couple little confessions: 1)I originally had Cuddy be the one to be with Libby when she opened her letters. I changed it because I thought Wilson needed to be in the story more. What do you think of my decision? 2) I have started working on the final chapter…it isn't the next one, probably not the one after that, but maybe the one after that. I had so many ideas about how I was going to do it; I just had to write it out. It's nowhere near done, though. Ok, that said, please review! Thanks! Next up…Libby founds out whether she gets into her numero uno college and the gang take a road trip to Michigan.