Hi everybody,

Thanks again for reading and commenting on this fic (even those who don;t comment, thank you for reading!). We have a long way to go!

It is still Friday. This takes place only a few hours where the last chapter left off.

Enjoy!

Chapter 69:

At around 6 P.M., upon walking into House's office, Wilson found that his friend had already left for the day. Cameron and Foreman were still working on the patient, waiting to see if she improved.

Dialing House's cell phone, Wilson was greeted with an automated voicemail message. Hanging up without leaving a message, he sighed and continued back to his office.

Wilson hated the present mood he was in. He hated how, as a doctor, he couldn't do anything more for his patient, Madeline, who was dying a slow death of leukemia. It didn't matter what he did for her, she was still going to die soon anyway. He had hoped House was in his office so that he could blow off some steam, but he wasn't, so Wilson trudged back to his office, determined not to mope. Anyway, he had some last minute phone calls to make before calling it a day.

Forty-five minutes later, Wilson and John were on the way to the oncologist's home after the long and gruesome work week. From the driver's seat, John glanced at the man sitting next to him, who was silently staring out the car window.

"You're unusually quiet," John began gently, unsure of the fragility of his partner's emotional state, given the events that he had witnessed earlier that afternoon.

Wilson kept staring out the window at the houses as they drove along the streets of the more residential area of Princeton.

He finally shrugged. "Have a lot on my mind."

"Do you want to talk about it?" John asked gently. He didn't want to push the issue, but he knew Wilson probably needed to talk.

"Not really."

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes.

"I went down to your office earlier today, but you weren't there," John began, hesitantly.

"Yeah, I wasn't there most of the day…"

"One of the nurses…told me that you may have been down the hall, so naturally, I went to look," John began, hesitantly. "I saw you with a patient – a little girl, she looked to be no more than nine or ten…"

"That's Madeline," Wilson replied. John could hear the tightness in his voice but didn't say anything and waited for him to continue.

"She's eight years old. Acute lymphocytic leukemia," he continued, not breaking his gaze from the window. "I started treating her over a year ago…Her progression was fast…" His voice broke off.

"It is bad?" John asked quietly, as he flicked on his turn signal as he drove into Wilson's street.

"…she could die any day," Wilson whispered.

"She's had quite an impact on you, hasn't she?"

"Yeah, with everybody. She's a…joy to be around. She's –," Wilson cleared his throat and continued. "…To be facing what she's dealing with at such a young age, it's just – her courage is incredible."

"In my career," he continued, his voice low, "there's always been a patient here and there that makes you stop and remember why you wanted to enter the oncology field in the first place. And for me, it's Madeline…As a doctor, you try to not get too emotionally invested with your patients, but sometimes…you just can't help it."

They had arrived at the house.

Sitting in the driveway, John shut the car off, taking the keys out of the ignition, and he sat in the driver's seat. He didn't even think Wilson knew they had arrived at his house.

"…And that's one of the things I love but hate about this job. It's the patients who you try so hard to treat and help get better, but then you know that they will die anyway…it's just…hard - especially with patients like Maddie..."

John reached over and squeezed his partner's hand with his own.

"If there is anything I can do," he whispered, "let me know."

Wilson finally looked over at him, squeezing the other man's hand back. "Thanks."

Opening the car door, John stepped out into the brisk evening air. "C'mon, let's go inside. I'll make you some of my awesome Bolognese," he said brightly, deciding for the moment to again not express his anger at Wilson for severing his trust.

While Wilson and John were in Princeton, eighteen miles away, House and Cuddy were having dinner at The Frog & The Peach, an American cuisine located in downtown New Brunswick. They were enjoying dinner before seeing an Alfred Hitchcock play at George Street Playhouse, not even a mile away off of George Street in downtown New Brunswick.

"So what play are we seeing?" Cuddy asked, as she took another bite of the roasted beet salad that she and House were sharing as an appetizer.

"You just have to know everything, don't you? Put the 'Dean of Medicine' away for the night and just be Lisa Cuddy enjoying herself on a date," House told her, as he laid his fork down.

"It's Hitchcock's '39 Steps'," he added. Peering at her cleavage accented by the low scoop neckline of her dress, he smirked. "And you better put those puppies away before I say we bag the show and go back home so I can -"

"I thought you didn't like Hitchcock!" she exclaimed, as she rolled her eyes at the later statement he had made about the anatomy of certain body parts.

"Are you kidding? Hitchcock is awesome!"

"Whatever you say. And this salad is delicious!"

House agreed. "Listen," he began somewhat hesitantly, "about earlier today, I'm – I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, somewhat uncomfortable. "With Laura..."

Cuddy reached over and covered his hand with her own. "Don't worry about it," she told him, gently. "I know it's uncomfortable for you."

"I still shouldn't have lashed out at you," House mumbled, glancing down at the tablecloth.

"Greg, it's okay. Don't worry about it," she repeated again. "I know you didn't mean it. You know I'm proud of you for taking this step…"

House was just about to respond when a waiter swooped over them, bringing the entrees. Cuddy had ordered the pumpkin ricotta gnocchi with parsnips, leeks and sage in a brown butter sauce, with a side of asparagus, while House went with the center cut beef tenderloin topped with a béarnaise sauce and a side of sweet potato fries.

Cuddy was just about to resume their conversation, but a voice interrupted her.

"Lisa Cuddy?!" a male voice exclaimed.

Turning her head to the sound of her name, Cuddy's mouth dropped open in astonishment as a thin black haired gentleman of average height in a dark suit stepped into her line of vision.

"Brad?!" Cuddy gushed, at the sight of the man standing in front of her in his neatly pressed suit pants, shirt and jacket and bow tie. "Oh my god. How are you?!" Standing up, she and the man donned 'Brad' embraced, although a little too long for House's liking.

Pulling back, 'Brad' gave the woman a lingering once over, keeping his hand a little too long on her hip bone, as his thumb caressed her dress material.

"Wow. You look fantastic, Lisa! Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you," Cuddy replied, warmly. She glanced at the two men. "Brad, this is Greg House. Greg, this is Brad Kowalski,"

As the two men shook hands and Cuddy sat back down, Brad exclaimed, "The Greg House? Wow. It's a pleasure to meet you. You know, I've read every article you've written. The cases you deal with are just absolutely fascinating."

"You'd think people have better things to do then to read every damn article I publish. Do you sleep with them too?" House mocked.

Cuddy was absolutely mortified. "Greg!" she exclaimed, staring at him wide-eyed, appalled that he would speak inappropriately.

Brad chuckled. "It's okay, Lisa…" he told her, before turning back to House. "I just really find your cases fascinating."

"So, how do you two know each other?" House asked, a bit firm, as he noticed how this 'Brad' guy embraced his girlfriend.

"Brad and I did our residency way back. When was that, like twenty years ago?"

"Something like that, yeah," Brad replied, smiling at her.

"Where are you now?" Cuddy asked him curiously.

"I'm at Robert Wood here in New Brunswick in their pediatric trauma center. Been there for about twelve years. Although, somewhat recently in pediatrics…"

"RWJ has the only pediatric trauma center in the state, right?"

"Yes. We've had a Level One adult trauma center for years, but recently, we expanded to pediatrics," Brad replied. "It's in conjunction with the Bristol-Myers Squibb Children's Hospital at RWJ."

"That's excellent! PPTH is actually undergoing a merger with Princeton University Medical Center as we speak as well..."

"You're still Dean there, I take it?"

"Yup, still Dean," Cuddy told him, smirking. "Not to get too personal, but you're not still with Sophie, are you?"

Brad shook his head. "No. We lasted a year or two, maybe,…it's way too much pressure to be a doctor and have a family life, in my opinion."

Turning to House, who had remained silent during the whole interaction, Brad added, "Not to change the subject, but I emailed you a few weeks ago about consulting with our department, specifically pediatric infectious disease and immunology…"

"Yeah, I don't read email…"

"Well," Brad replied, as he withdrew his wallet from inside his suit jacket pocket and took out a square business card. "Here's my card. Call me sometime and we'll talk."

House reluctantly took the square cardboard sheet out of the other doctor's hand. "Will do."

Turning back to Cuddy, Brad said, "It was really nice to see you, Lisa. Hopefully we can catch up sometime and I can persuade you to partner with our hospital."

"Well," Cuddy chuckled, "We'll have to see about that later proposition, but the 'catching up' part is definitely do-able. You know where to reach me."

"Will do," Brad replied, flashing a wide smile. House had to force himself not to vomit.

"Dr. House," Brad turned to him. "Pleasure to meet you."

"You too, Bradley," House replied, with a hint of sarcasm which did not go undetected by Cuddy.

Once Brad had walked out of ear shot from their table, Cuddy glared coldly at House.

"What was that?!"

Out of the corner of his eye, House watched Brad sit back down at his table across the dining room from them before addressing her question.

"Oh he definitely wants to do a lot more than just 'catch up'."

"Greg, you are unbelievable! I haven't seen him in years," she told him, as she took a bite of her gnocchi.

"You really don't know the effect you have on guys, do you?"

Cuddy stared at him. "What's that supposed to mean? And you are totally jealous right now."

House, who had just taken a sip of his scotch, swallowed quickly and banged the glass down on the table. "You think I'm jealous of that?!" he exclaimed. "Here's a big clue: Brad pretty boy what's-his-face is not sitting where I am right now…and he totally was checking you out!"

Shaking her head, Cuddy chuckled to herself and went back to her meal. After a few seconds, she looked up. "When have you gotten all over-protective all of a sudden?"

"I wouldn't call watching out for guys like that overprotective," House replied, as he took a huge bite of beef.

"Fine. Jealousy?"

"Nope," he replied, taking a sip of his drink after swallowing the huge piece of meat he had just eaten. As he set the glass down, he glanced out of the corner of his eye and noticed Brad watching them, presumably, House thought, to figure out whether this was a business dinner or something else.

"Kiss me," he suddenly said.

Quite taken aback by the abrupt request, Cuddy peered at him, questionably. "Why?"

"Just do it. Bradley Mc Creeper is staring at us."

"Oh, so you do want to make him jealous?" Cuddy replied, a wide grin spreading across her face.

"I never said that."

Cuddy laughed softly, as she reached across the table and caressed the scruff on his jaw before leaning forward more and kissing him softly on the lips. As she pulled back, she whispered, "I love how immature you are being right now. What are you, five years old?!"

"Sounds like you want to make him jealous," House replied, as they maintained eye contact and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing against her cheekbone.

"You'll never know, will you?" she replied, smirking, as she leaned back and took a sip of her water, her other hand intertwined with his on the table.

"Tease," he murmured, as he popped a fry in his mouth.

"You have no intention of calling him, do you?"

"Nope," House replied, smirking.

Cuddy shook her head, fairly amused and not surprised, and went back to her meal.

"This is delicious," she said after a few minutes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I figured you needed a night out," House replied.

"I've been insanely busy."

"I know."

After dinner, once House had paid the bill, he and Cuddy left the restaurant. Once outside, House gave the valet parking guy his ticket.

As an afterthought, he told Cuddy to wait for the car as he headed back inside. Spotting Brad Kowalski still at his table, House began to walk towards the doctor.

Brad saw him, excused himself from his colleagues and stood up, waiting for the diagnostician to approach him.

"Doctor House," he began, surprised. "What can I help -"

"Lay off, got it?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh I think you know exactly what I mean," House spat out, his voice dangerously low, as he stood in front of Brad. He had at least half a foot on the younger doctor.

Brad swallowed and held his ground, determined not to make a scene.

"I saw that little embrace you two had," House continued, his eyes on the other man's, as they flashed dangerously. "You were practically seducing her in front of me."

"Ooh, Lisa's got herself an overprotective boyfriend," Brad mocked.

"Watch it, dickwad."

"And she's into cripples too. Who knew?"

"I said watch it, dick head," House told him, his voice still low, as he took a step closer to the doctor, trapping the man between himself and the edge of the table.

Brad's colleagues who were sitting at the table with him were starting to get concerned and began to rise out of their chairs, but Brad stopped them.

"It's okay guys. I don't need backup for this cripple."

Bringing his cane up, House whacked Brad across the shins. Before the doctor doubled over, House seized another opportunity and brought his fist straight into Brad's stomach, below the rib cage.

Brad's body knocked violently back against the table as House swore loudly, cradling his hand against his body.

Brad's stomach muscles weren't that solid but they were hard enough that House winced on impact as his hand collided with the man's stomach.

One of Brad's colleagues who was sitting at the table immediately stood and grabbed House to stop him, while another bent down to check on Brad, who picked his head up and stared at House.

"You son of a bitch," he spat out, as he held onto his stomach in pain.

"I guess I made myself clear then," House replied. He stared at the man who had grabbed him.

"Get the fuck off me."

House shot Brad one more look of disgust and turned around to leave, but not before Brad reached out his hand and grabbed House's cane, causing House to stumble on his bad leg and put all of his weight on it.

Pain shot through his right thigh as he felt all of his weight come down on his bad leg. His hand immediately went to his upper thigh, as he gripped it tightly over his jeans.

Not wanting to show weakness in front of his attacker, House gritted his teeth in an effort not to yell out in pain and looked down towards the floor at Brad, a mixture of pure anger and disgust on his face, mixed with clear evidence of pain.

"If you ever talk to her again, I will kill you," he managed to choke out softly. Turning around, he noticed a few people staring in his direction.

"I'm leaving," House began, before the manager, who had just stepped forward, had a chance to even open his mouth.

Slowly and painfully, he made his way out of the restaurant and to the car.

Cuddy, who had been peering out of the passenger side window for the past four minutes, breathed a sigh of relief when she saw House finally appear outside.

She immediately frowned as she noticed his grimace and the fact that he was limping slower than before and obviously in a considerable amount of pain.

Immediately, she opened the door and got out.

"Get in," she told him, "I'll drive." She saw his fist, but decided not to comment. She wanted to ask what had happened but decided that it can wait.

House didn't even argue with her as he handed her the keys.

Once his body was in the front seat, he grimaced as he placed both hands on either side of his thigh to assist in bringing his leg into the car.

Once she closed the passenger side door, Cuddy made her way over to the driver's side and got in, glancing at House, who leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he gripped his damaged thigh with his hand.

"Take a Vicodin," she told him quietly, as she started the car and drove in the direction of Route 1, deciding that, with House's current pain level, having him sit through a two and a half hour show with no pain relief was torture.

TBC...

What do you think Cuddy's reaction will be when House tells her what happened?

This chapter surprised me a bit because this was not the direction that I initially had planned to go with this chapter...but, looking back on it, I think it IS something House would have definitely done...

And don't worry, John will eventually confront Wilson about betraying his trust..

I'm planning to have next chapter take place exactly where this left off.

By the way, The Frog and the Peach is absolutely fantastic. I've been there multiple times. :D