"How late is late?" House asked slowly and carefully, staring into the endless nether regions of his cup, avoiding her eyes.
"Four days." Cuddy matched his slow and calm tone, hoping this news, though not definitive, wouldn't set him off.
"That's bad, isn't it?"
"Yes, you could say that."
"That's a long time when it comes to something like this. Your period has never been late in your entire life?"
"Not this late," she said. "I'm like clockwork. If it's late, it's only a day or two. I've never been this late."
"Clockwork? Always?"
"Always. I've never skipped a month."
"So now that you are very late, very very late, it automatically means you're pregnant."
Cuddy was glad to note that, at least for the moment, there wasn't any anger in his voice. Just calmness and a hint of curiosity. "I could be. Right now I just haven't had my period this month."
"You might be pregnant with my child," he said with resignation.
"Yes, Greg."
"Why are you telling me this if you're not sure yet?"
"You deserve to know the truth."
"Do I?" he smirked, and met her gaze with a hint of coldness. "I see. I'm such a fine upstanding member of society. Everyone is standing in line to be my friend. Yes, I do deserve the truth served on a solid gold platter. Now that you've heard about what I think about wives and families and children, what do you think I really truly deserve? "
"Goddamn you, Greg," she hissed in a voice that told House all the years of Cuddy turning the other cheek when it came to ignoring his sarcasm, arrogance, and misanthropy, she wasn't going to turn one last time. The floodgates opened and he was going to drown thanks to one mistimed comment. "I've been there for you, cleaned up your messes, stood up for you when you sure as hell didn't deserve it, and this is the thanks I get? I might be carrying your child, a part of you, and now I can clearly see it means absolutely nothing."
"Whoa...wait just one goddamn minute." House turned and shivered at her frigid stare and welling eyes. "Don't you dare start putting words in my mouth, Lisa, and don't you ever say anything like that about me again."
"You just told me you don't like children."
"Yeah, that's right. I don't," he replied, leaning into the table. "All those children have never been one of mine."
"So now you want a family, Greg?" The sarcasm in her voice hit him like a sucker punch.
"Lisa, stop it."
"All set to play Daddy now? Gonna go buy a video camera and a baseball glove for the little one?"
"So help me, Lisa, if you don't stop talking to me like that..." Cuddy could see it was taking everything he had to not blow up and she backed off a bit. "You asked me a question and I gave you an honest answer. Now you know how I feel," he said.
"Yes, you were honest," she agreed. "Your blunt honesty isn't always what I want to hear."
"Up until now I've neverfaced the possibility of an instant family landing in my lap.
"You're not sure if you can handle it," Cuddy said, the sarcasm thankfully gone, replaced with quiet resignation of her own.
"Exactly."
"You're overwhelmed by the thought."
"Yeah, you could say that."
"I wasn't thinking about that. I'm sorry, Greg."
"Save it for something worth being sorry about."
"I'll let you know as soon as I'm sure. I promise."
"Yes, please, that would be nice. And can we stop fighting over something that we're not sure about yet?"
"Okay, okay. You're right," she sighed. "Can I ask you one more question?"
"What?" he said warily.
"If I am pregnant, what are you going to do?"
"I don't know."
"You really don't, do you?"
"No."
"Thank you for your honesty."
"You're welcome. Whatever the results turn about to be, we definitely have something to talk about tonight."
