I just want to continue to thank everyone who has read this story and stuck with me from the beginning.

That being said, let's get to it, shall we?

Where we left off:

John stepped forward in Joseph Parker's direct line of vision and extended his hand.

"Doctor Parker, John Greene. I need to speak with you regarding something personal."

The obstetrician shook his hand. "Unfortunately, I don't have time, John. Leave a note with Cindy here and I'll get back to you when I can." Dismissing the lawyer, he turned to talk with the nurse.

"It's about Lisa Cuddy!" John blurted out.

That got Parker's attention.

"Can we go somewhere more private?" the lawyer asked.

"Walk with me," Parker said, motioning with his hand as he started down the corridor.

Chapter 66:

"Correct me if I am mistaken," Joseph Parker spoke, as he hung his lab coat on the back of his chair and sat down, mentioning for John to do likewise, "but you are the hospital's lawyer, correct?"

"I am," John replied, as he sat down in one of the two chairs facing the desk in the obstetrician's office.

"And you are here concerning Lisa Cuddy."

"Yes."

"Well, John, how can I be of assistance?"

Leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms across his chest, John began, "I'm assuming you do not know that Lisa has a court date next Friday?"

"That's news to me, yes," the doctor answered, surprised. "I'm assuming," he added, "that it is regarding her accident?"

John nodded. "Yes."

"I'm still a little confused about why you want to talk to me. And, aside from not even a handful of my staff, no one knows that she is my patient…"

"I wasn't aware that you kept that private. My apologies. Greg told me that you were her doctor…I assure you, Doctor, that nothing will leave this room. I take my job and confidentiality very seriously, as I'm you do as well," John told him.

He paused and waited for the older doctor to speak. When he didn't, John continued.

"This…may be just a tad blunt, but…how did her miscarriage happen?"

Parker was silent for a few seconds before leaning forward in his chair and folding his hands on top of one another on his desk, fixing the lawyer with a piercing stare.

"I'm assuming you have a very good reason for asking that, John. And please, call me Joe."

"I do," John assured him. "To keep this brief, I'm representing Lisa in a lawsuit against Doctor Chase for the events that transpired last November. Need I continue?"

Parker blinked. "No."

"Good. Saves us both time. Back to my question. How did the miscarriage -"

"You want the medical reason or my personal belief?" Parker interrupted.

"Both, but let's start with the first," John said, as he reached into his briefcase that sat on the floor next to his chair, and pulled out a legal pad and a pencil.

"About 70 percent of miscarriages stem from unknown causes," Parker began, as he cleared his throat.

"However," he continued, " a number of factors can certainly contribute to why the miscarriage occurs, such as abnormalities of the fetus, the woman's age and health, things like that…but, like the nature of all medicine, it is not an exact science…"

"So, the causes are relatively unknown, is that correct?"

"That is correct."

"And what about the remaining 30 percent?" John asked, as he looked up from his notes, "Those that are not due to…abnormalities and such?"

Parker shrugged. "Drugs, trauma to the abdomen…things that were known…"

"Do you think the cause of Lisa's miscarriage was due to unknown, unforeseen causes?"

"…well, there's really no way to tell definitively…"

"You're not giving me a straight answer, Joe," John said, rather forcefully. "I'm trying to build this case. Now, I need your help. Are you going to help Lisa's case or not?"

Leaning back in his chair, Parker surveyed the lawyer silently before answering him. When he spoke, he chose his words very carefully.

"I think… that…the impact of force to the abdomen…from the other moving vehicle makes trauma the more, shall we say, suitable explanation over anything else."

"Could you swear to that statement in court?"

Parker hesitated, sidestepping the question. "In the first trimester," he continued, "It won't be one hundred percent accurate on that being the sole possible reason for the miscarriage, but it is still largely better than any of the 'unknown' explanations, besides her age."

John repeated himself. "So, could you swear to that statement in court if you were called on to testify?"

"I believe I can, yes," the doctor replied, after a split second hesitation.

"Good."

"Will I definitely be called in to testify?"

"It depends on how things pan out," John told him, "However, I want you in that courtroom either way. Physically, mentally and emotionally, this whole ordeal has not been easy for Lisa, and I want you there in case anything…were to happen…"

Logging into his computer, Parker brought up his calendar as he silently understood what John had meant.

"You said it was in two weeks?"

"Yes. Thursday. February 21st. Eleven a.m."

Typing on the keyboard, Parker confirmed what he had said. "Okay. I'll be there."

"Good," John said, as he grabbed his briefcase and stood up.

"If you have any other questions," the obstetrician told him, handing over his card after writing his cell phone number on the back, "do not hesitate to contact me."

"Thank you, Doctor. We'll be in touch."

That same night, John sat on the couch in his boyfriend's living room in Princeton, his laptop open on the coffee table in front of him and his handwritten notes from both House and Parker situated on his lap as he was in the midst of working to building a solid defense for Lisa Cuddy's trial against Robert Chase.

The fact that House was the sole witness to Cuddy's accident made his testimony extremely important, due to the fact that Cuddy didn't remember anything after being stopped at the traffic light at the intersection of Nassau and Mercer, right before she had made the turn. In her words, "The last thing I recall is the light turning green…and - and then sometime later, I woke up in the emergency room."

The police report had indeed simply confirmed what House had said. Chase's recorded blood alcohol level was indeed a start, at least. John was curious what had possessed Chase to indeed operate a moving vehicle when he was intoxicated at a point thirteen level.

He speculated that Chase was smarter than to do something as immature and stupid as to drink and drive. This was his first arrest ever. There must be something, John thought. Whatever the reason, he was determined to find out and proceed accordingly. When it came to what he did, there were certainly no excuses.

As he reviewed over his notes from questioning House that day, John began typing furiously on his laptop keyboard as he planned out the beginning of his questioning towards Chase.

"What are you working on?"

Not even five minutes later, John was brought out of his thoughts by Wilson's voice. Without taking neither his eyes off the computer screen nor his fingers off the keys, John spoke.

"Just a case that's going to court soon. No big deal."

From behind the couch, Wilson placed his hands on John's shoulders, rubbing his partner's muscles. "I think you're working too much."

John looked around at him and shrugged. "I just tend to get involved in my cases, that's all."

"Do you want to order take out?"

"I don't know how much longer I'm going to be working on this, so yeah I guess. Sounds good."

"I was going to order from Midori's. What do you want?"

"I'll take the Chicken Teriyaki," John said to him, as he turned back to his laptop. "Thanks, James. You're a peach."

Wilson bent down and kissed John on the cheek. "Don't work too hard."

He was just about to rise and grab his phone from inside his pocket when something caught his eye. He had glanced at John's notes that were on his lap.

"Why is House's name in your notes?" he asked, slowly.

John didn't answer him and kept his gaze on his laptop screen as he froze.

"John, what are you working on?"

"It's nothing," John sputtered, looking around at his partner. "I just – it's something I - " He faltered under Wilson's piercing gaze.

"What's going on?"

"Technically, I am bound by attorney-client privilege," John started.

"Oh, don't start with me with all the attorney crap!" Wilson exclaimed. "If what you are doing concerns my best friend, I have the right to know about it!"

"Do you think there might be a reason why House didn't say anything to you?" John said to him calmly.

"Oh, so you ARE working on something that involves him?"

John exhaled. "You aren't going to drop this until I answer you…"

"Nope." Wilson walked over to the couch diagonal across from where John was, and sat down, waiting for an explanation.

"…you're technically not supposed to know anything…"

"Oh, would you stop it already?" Wilson exclaimed. "You may be an attorney, but right now, this is personal and you know it!"

John exhaled as he said quietly, "…yes, what I am doing does involve him."

"Okay, and…"

"James, I can't do into details," John exclaimed, staring at him. "You know that! It's the same thing as doctor-patient confidentiality that you have in your profession. Don't – don't pigeon-hole me..."

"Fine," Wilson huffed. "I'll just ask House…"

"No, don't…fine, but you cannot repeat this to anyone…I'm working on a lawsuit involving Cuddy."

"What?!" Wilson exclaimed. "You – since when? When were you going to tell me this?!"

"Only a handful of people know," John began. "I was going to let you know before the trial sometime. It's bound to come out eventually."

"Trial?!" Wilson exclaimed again. "What do you – is Lisa being represented by you?!"

John nodded. "She is."

"Regarding?"

"Her accident last year."

"What?!" Wilson exclaimed once more. "…did she come to you or…"

"She did," John replied, without elaborating.

When Wilson did not say anything more, John went back to reading his notes which were situated on his lap.

"What are the charges? Have you spoken to Chase yet?"

"James, I'm sorry. I can't go into any more details. I've already told you too much," John replied, without looking up from the pad. "I'm bound by a court of law. I'm sorry."

"Well," Wilson began quietly after a few seconds of silence, "Just do one thing for me, okay?"

Surprised, John looked up at him. "And what may that be?"

Standing up, Wilson reached into his pocket to grab his phone to order takeout.

"Win this case," he demanded.

Squeezing John's shoulder as he walked by, Wilson went into the kitchen and called Midori's sushi, located on Route 206 in Princeton.

"Oh I'll try," John replied to himself as he once again turned his attention to his laptop.

Tuesday around mid-day, House was sitting in the passenger seat of Cuddy's Sebring, while Cuddy drove back to her house.

"I'm impressed you left work early," House commented, as he glanced out the window as they drove along the road, his sling lying on his lap.

"Are you forgetting that I run the place?"

"Well, you're not the one to slink off work early…"

"Although, I do have sex in the middle of the day so, that is kind of like leaving early and then going back," Cuddy replied cheekily.

"Minx," House laughed softly, as he laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

Cuddy chuckled. "I refilled your Vicodin," she told him. "And yes, I checked. It's Vicodin. You don't need another drug mix up scare…"

"Thank you." House opened his eyes and looked over at her. "You know, I kept thinking about what you said yesterday…I want to cut back on the pills. Really, I do. But…I'm…afraid…." His voice trailed off as he struggling to internally verbalize what he was thinking.

"I know, Cuddy whispered softly. Taking her right hand off of the steering wheel, she took hold of his left hand with her own and squeezed it. "I know," she repeated again.

Upon returning home, Cuddy smiled to herself as she opened the front door to her house. Letting House walk in first, she closed the door after him and walked into the living room, hoping House would follow her.

He did.

As he limped into the living room behind her, House stopped in his tracks, his mouth dropping open at the sight before him.

In the corner of Cuddy's living room sat House's black Yamaha baby grand piano.

"What – how did you -" he stammered, looking at Cuddy, who was leaning against the wall watching him, grinning from ear to ear.

House limped over to his favorite possession, running his hand along the curve of the wooden framework. Pulling the black bench out from underneath, he leaned his cane against the bench's edge and sitting down, he flexed his fingers before placing them upon the keys.

"It came this morning," Cuddy told him, as she wandered over to the piano and leaned against it, watching House as he closed his eyes and began to play softly.

"Thank you," House whispered, without stopping his playing.

Cuddy immediately recognized the familiar tune of Clair de Lune emanating from the piano. As she listened to him play, she watched his face. His eyes were closed and as the piece progressed, his face relaxed, his brow un-furrowed and the lines on his face became less pronounced.

As he neared the end of the piece, House transitioned into a couple modern pieces. First, his own version of 'Can You Read My Mind?' the Love theme from Superman, and finished with the Rolling Stones' 'Angie' and 'Wild Horses'.

When his fingers finally lay silent and unmoving on the keys, House opened his eyes.

"And it's in tune."

"Greg, that was beautiful," Cuddy whispered softly, smiling through her tears, which had come rather unexpectedly as she listened to him play. "You have a gift."

House motioned for her to come closer to him. "Thank you," he said, standing up and placing a hand on her hip, pulling her to him.

Once she was snuggled in between him and the piano, Cuddy wrapped her arms around House's neck.

"You're welcome," she breathed softly.

Moving his left hand upwards to brush her dry tears away, House placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her. The kiss was slow and tender, full of longing.

Pulling back, House stroked her jaw line with his thumb.

"I love you, Lisa," he whispered. "I always will."

Tears filled Cuddy's eyes again as she listened to what he had said.

"We will get through this. I promise," he continued. "Sit with me."

He sat down once more at the piano, with Cuddy next to him on his right. Placing his fingers on the keys, House began to play a slow tune, which Cuddy recognized immediately as the Theme from St. Elmo's Fire.

When he finished, House looked over at her. "I started playing when I was fourteen," he began. "My mom started me on lessons. She told me that I'd only have to take lessons for a year and if I hated it, I could stop…This became like therapy for me. I fell in love and never stopped."

As he was talking, he began to play a soft tune, his fingers moving graciously across the keys, almost effortlessly.
"I stopped playing a few months after the infarction. I didn't even know if I was going to come back to it after that, but…it was Wilson who convinced me that I needed to go back. He encouraged me to start playing again…"

"Was it hard?" Cuddy asked softly, shocked that he was talking about his leg. "Stopping?"

"Yeah. I missed it. I missed the way it made me feel…once I got back into playing, it was like I never stopped…"

"Throughout all the shit in my life," he continued quietly, "the piano was the only thing that kept me grounded. Kept me sane. Kept me rational. It made me actually be able to feel," he stressed.

He stopped playing and looked at her.

"And then I found a second thing in my life to keep me grounded, something to keep me sane and make me believe I was worth something."

He paused, and held Cuddy's hand in his own before continuing.

"And that was you."

"Every day I wake up thinking this whole thing is a dream. That one day I'll wake up alone, because that's all I've known," he whispered, his eyes searching her face.

"I don't deserve you," he scoffed quietly.

"Yes, you do," stressed Cuddy softly as she squeezed his hand. "Greg, what you see in yourself is not what I see. Want to know what I see?"

"I see a caring, brilliant smart man with a huge heart who is afraid," she continued quietly. "I see a brilliant, aggressive pain-in-the-ass doctor who has a gift to the world of medicine who doesn't stop until he gets to the right answer to save his patients every day. I see my employee who doesn't give a rat's ass what anyone else thinks and will go above and beyond to do whatever is necessary to save his patients."

She withdrew her hand from his and reached up to stroke the side of his face, her palm caressing the scruff.

"And most importantly," she whispered, looking into his eyes as her voice cracked with emotion, "I see the man who I want to spend the rest of my life with."

As she caressed his jaw with her hand, she fought to keep her emotions in control.

"You think you aren't capable of love," she continued softly as she felt a stray tear roll down her cheek. "But I've seen it, Greg. I have. And what's more, you will be a great father to our son… you don't have to become your father. And if I need to tell you that every single day for the next ten years, I will."

When she finished speaking, Cuddy closed her eyes, overwhelmed by her emotions that were surfacing, and took a much needed breath.

As he listened to the woman he loved pour her heart out to him, House swallowed, staying silent. When she finished speaking, he looked at her longingly.

Before she even had a chance to open her eyes again, House cupped her tear-stained face with both his hands and kissed her, giving her as much passion as he could allow in that moment.

Moving his mouth next to her ear, he breathed softly, "Thank you for not giving up on me."

TBC...

I thought it was appropriate to show a tender moment between House and Cuddy. They have a lot going on.

House opens up a lot in the next chapter (and not just to Cuddy...)

Do you think John did the right thing by telling Wilson about the trial? And is Wilson now going to confront House or in respect to John, keep it to himself?

Do you think Parker will have to testify on Lisa's behalf? And more importantly, will John uncover the reason for Chase's high BAC?

Comment! Thanks!