Hi guys,

So sorry for the delay in posting. It's been a busy couple weeks, plus this chapter went through numerous edits before I was happy with the final version. It may be a couple weeks before the next update. So, be patient and stay tuned!

Where we left off: It's the morning of the trial and House gets a rather unexpected phone call.

"House," he spoke gruffly into the mouthpiece of the cellular phone.

Silence.

He was about to disconnect the call, thinking it was a wrong number, when a female voice stopped him.

A female voice which he knew all too well.

"Greg."

Silence.

Before House had a chance to even open his mouth, he cast a warning look towards the bathroom door as he heard the female voice speak again.

"If Lisa is there, don't say my name. Go somewhere where you cannot be overheard."

"How do you know -"

"Greg." Stacy Warner's voice interrupted, impatiently. "Just do it!"

And, casting another warning glance at the direction of the bathroom door, where, behind it, he heard the sound of constant running water, Greg House obeyed, limping out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him, while his mind was reeling with curiosity as to why his ex-girlfriend had called him.

Chapter 78:

After making sure the bedroom door was completely shut behind him, House spoke quietly into the phone.

"Hang on," he said, before limping down the hallway and towards the living room. Making himself comfortable on Cuddy's couch (well, their couch), House took a breath and spoke into the phone once more.

"So," he began, "what do you want? This is kind of unexpected."

"Wow," he heard Stacy reply. "That was rather blunt."

"I'm a blunt kind of guy."

Stacy rolled her eyes, even though she knew he couldn't see her. 'Some things never change,' she thought to herself.

She heard House clear his throat, and was brought back to the present moment.

"I bet you're wondering why I called you," she began quickly.

"That would be a start, yeah," House replied. "Although from what you first said on the phone, I can hardly think this conversation won't turn…awkward -"

"Greg," Stacy interrupted him. "Have you forgotten that Lisa and I are still good friends?"

"I didn't realize you talked to her lately."

"I haven't, actually," Stacy told him.

There was a moment of awkward silence until Stacy broke it.

"I, uh, just wanted to give you a heads up that I'll be in the courtroom today." She held her breath, waiting anxiously but nervously for his response.

"I'm not sure how to respond to that," House replied slowly, after a brief pause where he gathered his thoughts.

"I didn't ask you to have a response. I just…wanted to let you know so you wouldn't be…shocked when you saw me," Stacy told him. "Although, don't tell Lisa I'm coming. I want to surprise her."

"…Okay," House replied slowly. "How do you know…" His voice trailed off when he didn't quite know how to ask or even what to ask.

Fortunately, Stacy picked up on his hesitation. "What? About the trial or the fact that you two are finally dating?"

House chuckled lightly but said nothing.

"I know John Greene," she continued.

"What?!" House exclaimed, and then lowered his vice after shooting a quick glance towards the bedroom door. "How?!"

"I used to work at his firm in New York. I mean, I still do, but it's more part-time. He came back for a party a few weeks ago."

"So he told you?"

"Well, James was with him, so James filled me in about you two and about the accident and John let me know about today."

"And, Greg," Stacy continued, her voice getting quieter. "I wanted to offer my congratulations but also my condolences…."

House was silent for a few seconds. A feeling that hadn't surfaced for a long time was threatening to re-emerge. He swallowed and forced himself to clear his head.

"So you really do know everything," he finally whispered, as he felt his throat start to constrict. It was a statement rather than an intended question.

"I'm sorry for what you and Lisa went through. You two didn't deserve this," Stacy told him softly.

She paused, knowing he was most likely getting uncomfortable with the subject matter.

"John's a good lawyer."

"I know," House replied, his voice becoming strong once again. "Lisa wouldn't have hired him if he wasn't."

"So," Stacy began again. "Have you spared James or does the mockery and sarcasm still manifest?"

"Are you kidding? That's the favorite part of my day. If I didn't mock my bestest buddy, what else is there to do?"

Stacy laughed aloud. "You seem like you haven't changed," she replied, smirking. "Anyway, I'll let you go. Good luck, Greg. You two will do fine. Just…" Her voice trailed off.

"Just?"

"…Don't let Steve have the upper hand when he's questioning you."

"Steve?"

"Steven Savoy. Chase's lawyer."

"You know him?!"

"Yes," she replied. "I've been on his opposition a few times. He plays hardball."

"Does John know this?"

"He does, yes."

"How hardball are we talking about?"

"Nothing that you can't handle. He'll look for anything to trap you."

House swallowed. "It's not me I'm concerned about," he replied quietly.

"I know," Stacy told him softly. "Look, Lisa's smart. You know that. Knowing her, she'll probably go into full blown administrator mode. She'll do fine."

She and House talked for a few minutes more and after disconnecting the call, House ventured back into the bedroom where he heard the sound of the blow dryer running from behind the bathroom door.

Limping into the bathroom, he saw Cuddy standing at the sink, blow-drying her hair with some type of conical attachment. She was wearing a three- quarter sleeve faux wrap black-and-green striped knee-length maternity dress, which was not too revealing yet not too conservative.

Turning off the blow-dryer, she peered at House through the mirror.

"Why aren't you dressed yet?!" she exclaimed.

"On the phone with Foreman," House lied, as he limped to where she was standing. "Got a case."

He pointed toward the diffuser that was attached to the blow-dryer. "What the hell is that?!"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "That is called a diffuser. It prevents frizzy hair."

"So why just not blow-dry your hair?"

"Because I don't want to go out of the house with wet hair," Cuddy told him before turning around to face him, the blow-dryer still in her hand.

"And don't you think you have more important things to do than to worry about a case?" she continued. "Your team can handle it."

"Leaving Cameron and Foreman in charge without me is like trying to -"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Cuddy interrupted. "They need your brilliance, Sherlock."

House smirked and moved closer to her, his hand cupping her hip bone through her polyester dress material.

"How are you?" he asked softly, stepping forward and closing the gap between them.

"I'm good," she whispered, reassuring herself as she took a breath. "Nervous but good."

"John's a good lawyer. You'll do fine."

Cuddy looked up at him. "Just promise me you won't do anything to Chase in the courtroom when you see him," she whispered softly, as her eyes locked onto his.

"Okay," House replied. "But, for you. Not for him."

"Whatever it takes," Cuddy mumbled, as she turned back to the bathroom mirror.

Trenton, Clarkson S. Fisher Building, Courtroom 5:

Ten minutes to eleven, dressed in a jacket and tie (no doubt, at Cuddy's request) Gregory House sat in the front of the courtroom in a black swivel chair, his cane resting against the long rectangular wooden table in front of him off to the side. To his right, sat Cuddy, and on the opposite side of Cuddy sat John Greene, her lawyer, who was silently glancing over his notes, his pen tapping lightly on the table's oak surface.

After much pleading on John's behalf, the judge allowed House to sit beside Cuddy at the table instead of in the front row of the gallery.

"Thank you," House whispered.

"Don't mention it," John whispered back.

House looked behind them. More people were filling the rows in the gallery. Most, not all of them were from Princeton Plainsboro. Directly behind the table where House, Cuddy and John were sitting, Wilson, Cameron and Foreman sat in the front row of the gallery. Cuddy's sister, Katherine, was sitting a few rows behind them.

House's eyes flickered to the other side of the packed courtroom. The defense table was still empty. His eyes traveled further back and his gaze fell on a woman with shoulder length black hair, sitting not too far from the back of the room.

Stacy Warner saw him staring at her, and she immediately grinned at him. 'Good luck' she mouthed silently.

House smirked and immediately turned toward Cuddy, who was seated on his right. He leaned over and whispered something in her ear.

Surprised, Cuddy pulled back and looked at him, as she did as she was told. Her face broke into a wide smile as she glanced behind her as she and Stacy locked eyes with one another.

Stacy returned the grin and mouthed 'Good luck, Lisa.'

Cuddy smiled. 'Thank you' she mouthed back before turning back to address House.

"Did you know she was coming?" she asked, her voice low.

"Actually, yeah," House whispered. "She called me this morning. She knows John."

Cuddy's mouth fell open. "You little liar! You weren't on the phone with Foreman this morning!"

House smirked but said nothing.

Turning to her right, Cuddy addressed John, who was sitting on the other side of her on the aisle. "I forgot you knew Stacy, John!"

John looked up from his notes. "She's here?"

"Yeah, in the back. Other side."

Glancing behind him, John indeed did notice his friend and former employee, but did not get out of his seat to talk to her.

"She wanted to come," he told Cuddy, as he turned back towards her after seeing Stacy.

"I didn't realize you two still talk!" Cuddy replied, surprised.

"Here and there," John told her, his voice low.

"Look, there's something you should know before Steve questions you," he continued, switching gears. "I know you're prepared, but just be careful with how you answer his questions. He plays dirty, so try not to get trapped."

"Stacy told me the same thing," House told him.

"Who do you think I got my information from?" John joked lightly.

As John was giving his client last minute advice, Robert Chase was escorted into the courtroom by a police officer, who was gripping the doctor's upper arm tightly. His lawyer advised him to get a haircut and shave, which he did.

"Judges don't like untidiness in their courtroom," Savoy had told him. "So do me a favor and look good. That means shave the two month stubble and get a haircut. At least do your best not to look like you've just been in jail for the past four months."

"But I have," Chase had replied.

Savoy rolled his eyes. "Rob, just do it. It could make a difference in this case."

"I hardly doubt that," Chase had muttered under his breath so he knew Savoy wouldn't hear him.

As he was led over to the one of the two only unoccupied tables that sat in the front of the courtroom, Chase focused his eyes on the front of the room, avoiding looking at all the people sitting in the rows in the gallery. No doubt there were a lot of people who he knew from the hospital, and he knew that they were all here to provide their boss with the support she needed to get through this ordeal.

And it was all his fault.

In the front row behind House and Cuddy, Chase noticed the back of Wilson's head and then almost automatically, his gaze shifted over to the woman sitting beside the oncologist.

Cameron.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw her. Ignoring his rush of emotions that just attempted to surface all at once, Chase's eyes flickered to the man sitting next to Cuddy on her right. John, he thought to himself as he advanced to the table that sat waiting for him.

His handcuffs were taken off and a moment later, his attorney had taken a seat next to him.

Steve Savoy was a decently respected criminal lawyer in the Trenton area, and he did anything to get his clients' out of trouble. But, he knew that the man sitting next to him, his client, had virtually no chance of getting off on this one. But he made a little bit of money and if he didn't get his client off, then he didn't really care because he had plenty other cases that he could get involved in.

Meanwhile, Chase stole a side glance at House and Cuddy, only half listening to what his lawyer was whispering to him about answering tactics when questioned by the opposing counsel.

House had one arm draped around the back of Cuddy's chair and was whispering to her. Meanwhile, Cuddy was simply staring blankly at the table in front of her, looking somewhat peaky. Chase's eyes traveled down to the curve of her stomach, where Cuddy's hand was resting, her fingers of her left hand nervously drumming against the dress material that accented her belly.

"It's not too late for you to back out of this," House whispered to her.

"I'm fine," Cuddy whispered back, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves that were threatening to overwhelm her.

House hesitated, knowing she was not fine, but didn't want to upset her further. "And you'll be sure to tell me if anything happens?"

Cuddy looked up into his eyes, which were filled with immediate concern. She swallowed, trying to reassure him and herself at the same time. "Greg, I'm at twenty-seven weeks. I'm fine," she stressed quietly.

"You're looking a bit peaky," House told her.

She snorted. "What are you, my mother?" She reached up with her hand that wasn't resting on her belly and softly caressed his cheek. "Greg, I'm okay, I promise," she whispered.

House brought his hand to rest on top of hers on her belly, giving her hand a small squeeze. "…I'm just worried, that's all…"

"I know," Cuddy said to him quietly. "Don't be."

House was about to answer when John motioned to cease their conversation, causing House to look up at the judge who had just come out of chambers on the left side of the courtroom.

"All rise," the bailiff in the corner said, "the honorable Judge Mark Fleming presiding."

As Cuddy stood up, House placed his hand on the small of her back to aid her in getting vertical.

"You can do this," he whispered in her ear, as he verbalized those words partly to reassure himself at the same time.