Hi guys.

I'm trying to crank these out as fast as I can. I went through a bit of a rough bout of writer's block, but hopefully now, it cleared up!

A huge thanks for all those of you still reading.

Chapter 97:

Entering the hospital's lobby around a quarter to eleven that same evening, House and Cuddy rode the elevator up to House's office on the fourth floor. The hospital was relatively quiet, being as it was late at night.

"You sure you want to stay? I can take you home," House said, as they rode the elevator upstairs together. He knew she must be exhausted.

Cuddy, who had just stifled her second yawn with the back of her hand, shook her head. "No, it's fine." She followed House into the conference room, where his two-thirds of his team were waiting.

"Splenomegaly," Cameron told House. "And I told you that you didn't have to come all the way back here."

"Will you shut up about that?" House replied, as he limped up to the whiteboard. "So it's definitely infection," he muttered to himself as he stared at the symptoms that littered the whiteboard.

"So, Mike Finkle, eh?" Cuddy mentioned, nonchalantly to Cameron and Foreman.

"You know him?" Foreman asked, surprised.

"He went to Michigan."

House looked around from the whiteboard. "Oh she knows him a lot more than I do," he told them sniggering "...If you get my drift..."

Cuddy marched up to him and snacked him on the arm.

"Oww," House cried out. "What was that for?"

"You deserved that," Cuddy told him. "You know exactly what that was for."

She glanced around at Cameron and Foreman.

"He knows Mike too, you know."

House jutted his chin in Cameron's direction. "She was in the room when Finkle brought up the frat party."

"What is your fascination with this party?" Cuddy asked, curiously,

House ignored her.

"How about sarcodosis?" He turned to his team.

"That could fit," said Cameron, frowning.

"No coughing," Foreman reminded her.

"It's got to be autoimmune," Cameron spoke. She looked over at House. "House, I told you that you didn't have to come. Foreman and I can handle it."

House turned to Cuddy. "You wanted to talk to Finkle?"

"Yes, but it's eleven o'clock at night. He is probably sleeping. I'll go tomorrow or something." She stifled another yawn with her hand. "..And I'm tired."

Glancing at the whiteboard, House was silent for a few seconds, thinking.

"It still could be sarcodosis. Do a bronchoscopy."

"Right now?" Cameron questioned. "House, I'd hate to wake him up -"

"No, it can wait until morning. Now that you've wasted my time, I'm going home," House replied, annoyed, as he grabbed his cane.

"And hers," he added, pointing his cane in Cuddy's direction.

"Oh no, leave me out of this one," Cuddy told him, holding her hands up. "I had to drive your ass here, seeing as I was your ride, remember?"

"You are my DD for the next two and a half months, and by god, I am going to milk it."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Like I said, no choice."

House fished his Vicodin bottle from the inside of his jacket pocket, poured two pills into his palm and dry-swallowed them.

"After you," he told her, limping to the door.

...later that evening. House-Cuddy residence.

House's eyes shot open as he was awakened by a familiar pang in his thigh. His hand slowly reached underneath the sheets to massage the dead tissue in his thigh muscle. Gritting his teeth, he slowly rolled over and grabbed his Vicodin bottle on the nightstand.

He sat up with a grunt and glanced at Cuddy, who was sleeping on her side with a pillow behind her back. Very carefully, without waking her, House grabbed his cane that was hanging on the corner of the headboard and quietly limped out into the hallway towards the kitchen.

Grabbing a glass of water from the faucet, he sat down at the kitchen table, gently massaging his thigh, as he tried to loosen up the familiar tightness. He took a sip of water.

Five minutes passed as he sat in the dark kitchen in complete silence. He slowly stood up and moved back over to the sink, refilling his water glass. He heard soft footsteps behind him, but did not turn around.

"Hey," he heard a voice say quietly.

"Hey."

He felt Cuddy walk up to him and wrap her hands around his bare torso from behind. "What's up?"

"I was just getting some water." He set the glass down on the counter beside the sink and turned.

"For five minutes?"

"I was thinking," he told her, letting his hands rest low on Cuddy's hips. The silk nightgown she was wearing clung to her hips, nicely accenting her round belly and curves, including her growing breasts, of which House noticed, were almost popping out of the top of the v-neckline.

"Your hand was on your leg. Are you okay?" she asked, concerned. She did not want to push the issue too far.

"It's fine. Just hurts," he told her. He grinned and leaned over to glance at her ample cleavage, which was threatening to peek out of her nightgown.

"My, my, the twins are looking very nice this fine morning."

Cuddy swatted his arm. "Stop."

"What, they're practically spilling out - ow!" He cringed as Cuddy hit his arm again.

"You deserved that," Cuddy replied, cheekily. She peered at him carefully.

"Are you sure -"

House took his hand off her hip, and reached up, cupping her cheek. "It's fine," he stressed. "It's just the muscles not being used to working this hard, that's all..."

He locked eyes with her green-gray ones, as he slowly moved his face inches from her own, and kissed her softly on the lips.

Cuddy's eyes closed as she welcomed the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as she breathed in his scent.

Breaking off the kiss, House looked down at her.

"Let's go away."

Cuddy opened her eyes. "What, now?"

House shook his head. "No, I mean, let's go away to escape all this craziness -"

Cuddy's mouth dropped open. "But I can't just drop everything. I have responsibilities," she interrupted, looking flabbergasted, "I have the hospital, I have meetings,...and the baby...and you have responsibilities, Greg, your team -"

"See? This is what I mean," House interrupted her. "When's the last time you took a vacation? Or had any time to yourself, for that matter? And I'm not talking about like, the weekends, away from work..."

Cuddy shrugged.

"I'm not saying now, obviously, " House continued. "But, we'll plan it. Okay? Maybe after the kid is born. You need a vacation. And don't tell me you don't."

Cuddy silently agreed.

"The hospital is not going to run away if you aren't in it," he joked.

His expression softened when he knew he had her full attention.

"Look," he whispered, "we've both been through some shit in the past couple of months. I think it'll be good for us to just...get away..."

Cuddy nodded. "Yeah," she agreed, softly. She moved her hand to her abdomen and stroked her belly with her thumb, as she felt her son stirring.

House moved his hand over the silky material, as he felt his son too shift within his mother's womb.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, relishing in the private moment.

"C'mon, let's go back to bed," House whispered after a few more seconds, as he grabbed his cane.

"You have PT tomorrow, right?" Cuddy asked, as they made their way down the hallway towards the bedroom.

"Yeah, it's been going well."

Cuddy squeezed his hand. "I'm glad."

As they climbed back into bed, House looked over at her with a somber expression on his face.

"I'll go to Michigan."

Cuddy's mouth dropped open as she stared at him. "Seriously?"

He shrugged. "They want me to go."

"Do you want to go?" She carefully shifted to lie on her side, facing him.

"Yeah." He moved closer to her, laying a hand on her hipbone.

"Thanks for pushing me," he told her, softly.

Leaning forward, Cuddy kissed him softly on the lips. "You're welcome."

Later on, at the end of the week on Thursday, Cuddy made her way upstairs to the third floor of the hospital, and ventured down the corridor.

She stopped outside a room and peered in through the glass slider.

"Is he awake?" Cuddy asked a nurse, who had just slid the door closed from House's patient's room.

The nurse nodded. "Yes."

Thanking her, Cuddy took a deep breath and slid the door open to the room where Mike Finkle was currently occupying.

They stared at each other as Cuddy slowly advanced her way toward the bed.

"Hi Michael," she said softly.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to come see me," Mike replied, extremely surprised she actually showed up.

"I've been busy."

"Did you hear? It's Schnitzler syndrome," Mike told her, "Just have to take some meds and a few follow-ups and I should be fine."

"Dr. House told me, yes. That's great news," Cuddy told him. "Mind if I sit?"

"Not at all. Please."

Cuddy sat down. "How are you, Michael? I heard you moved here a couple of months ago?"

"Yeah, for work, well, also for my now ex-girlfriend. But yeah, I got transferred to Summit. Didn't end up going to med school after Michigan. I'm in pharmaceutical sales."

"Well, not everyone can survive med school," Cuddy reminded him.

"You did! Hell, what, you became the second youngest Dean of Medicine in the country?"

Cuddy chuckled. "That's because I had no life and worked my ass off in college and in medical school," she told him. "Trust me, you did not want to be me."

"It worked," Mike told her. "Look at you! Running this place so smoothly. Congrats, by the way."

"Thank you."

Finkle arched an eyebrow, curiously. "Really? That's it? You're not confirming it?"

Cuddy was confused. "...confirming what?" she asked, slowly.

Shaking his head and grinning, Finkle spoke.

"I overheard, well okay, maybe I overheard and also asked about it, but the nurse who was here giving me my medication made some comment about House, and then I said I knew you," Finkle told her.

"...And then she said something about 'Well, how does House feel about that?' and then I guess I looked confused and then that's when she told me that the two of you are dating."

"And I'm assuming he told you I wanted to see you," he added.

Cuddy chuckled. "Yes, he did."

"So that's a 'yes' to you and House?"

Cuddy nodded.

"I kind of put two-and-two together when I brought up the frat party -"

" - He told me about that one too," Cuddy interrupted him.

"And yet," Finkle continued, "he still took my case."

"Of course he still took your case!" Cuddy exclaimed. "What, did you think that he was going to drop you when he found out his next case was someone that used to "kind of" be involved with his girlfriend?!"

"That's harsh."

Cuddy chuckled softly. "Well, what would call two dates and several "make out" sessions, then?" she questioned cheekily.

"House took your case because it was another puzzle he wanted to solve," she told him. "It had nothing to do with you personally."

Finke looked at her sharply. "That's it? I'm just a puzzle to him?"

Cuddy nodded. "Medically, yes."

"Don't take it personally," she continued. "He does that with everyone."

"So he treats patients and people like puzzles, not human beings?"

Cuddy shrugged. "It works for him."

"What about his personal life?" Finkle asked, accusingly. "Does he give a rat's ass about you?"

"Do not go there," Cuddy warned him, dangerously.

"...Or does he treat you like a puzzle too?"

"For your information, my personal life does not concern you," Cuddy told him coldly, "House reaches diagnoses in his own twisted way, and you know what, Michael? It works...He figured you out, didn't he?"

Finkle was silent, observing her carefully. He noticed how defensive she had gotten when he indirectly insulted House, and that could only mean one thing: that this was more than just a fling between the two of them.

Cuddy consulted her watch, and stood up. She had a meeting downstairs.

"Mike, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I have a meeting in ten minutes downstairs. I'm sorry."

"It was nice to see you," she told him, before walking out of the room, sliding the glass door shut behind her.

PPTH - OB Clinic. The next week.

Early Monday morning, after she had stopped by her office, Cuddy found herself lying on an exam table, her bare feet in stirrups, and wearing a gown, her rounded belly exposed. Her doctor, Joseph Parker, was taking her vitals and performing a routine examination.

House sat on a metal stool beside the table, his cane resting against his leg.

"Your BP is on the high side. But besides the hypertension, everything else looks normal," Parker told his patient. "And keep taking those vitamins I prescribed you."

"I knew we shouldn't have had sex this morning," interjected House, as he grinned. He quickly rolled out of the way, narrowly missing Cuddy's arm that came out, ready to swat at him.

Parker chuckled. He removed the cuff from Cuddy's arm, and then measured across her stomach, making a note in her chart before taking her pulse.

He faced her. "How are the headaches?"

Cuddy looked at him surprised. "How do you -"

"Greg called me last week and said you have been getting migraine headaches."

Cuddy shot House an icy glare.

"Which, by the way," Parker stressed, "you should have told me about."

"I'm still getting them. I'm trying not to work long hours, but sometimes, it's hard not to."

"Are you taking breaks? Getting up from your desk, going for walks, and getting some fresh air, things like that?"

"Yes," Cuddy told him, truthfully.

Parker smiled. "You're looking a little worn down. You're not cutting back your hours yet, are you?"

House interrupted before Cuddy had a chance to speak. "See? At least someone else agrees with me on that!"

"Until this merger goes through in the next few weeks, I can't - " Cuddy began, defensively, but Parker cut her off.

"Remember when I told you to make your health your top priority?"

Cuddy nodded silently.

"Well, now I really mean it. Now is not the time to stress yourself out. Not at week thirty, ok?" Parker told her gently, "Not in the third trimester."

When he knew she understood, Parker moved over to the side of the table as he pulled out a bottle from underneath the table.

As he squirted the cool gel onto Cuddy's exposed abdomen, Parker and the two doctors' stared at the monitor as Parker moved the wand across her stomach, where the life form within Cuddy's womb appeared on the screen.

Cuddy immediately grabbed onto House's hand as she peered at the screen, feeling a rush of emotions.

"Greg," she whispered, "Look, He's sucking his thumb! He looks so big."

House squeezed her hand as he too stared at his son, moving within his mother's womb. He glanced down at Cuddy briefly. Her eyes found his as she looked away from the screen.

He saw a look that he couldn't quite place.

"Looks good," Parker told them, happily. "He looks healthy. Growing at a good rate. Not breech." He paused and looked down at his patient.

"I do want to do a non stress test."

"Okay."

Parker helped her shift to lie on her left side on the table, and gave her some paper towels to wipe up.

"This will take about twenty to thirty minutes, I'm just going to check his heartbeat, make sure there is enough oxygen flow, things like that. With all the stress you are under, I just want to double check.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," he continued, "Just have to get the cardiotograph from the other room. Do you have time?"

Cuddy consulted the clock on the wall. "Yes. I don't have a meeting until eleven."

Parker smiled. "Good. I'll be right back." He left the room.

There was silence for a few seconds before House spoke.

"What was that look before?"

Cuddy glanced up at him from her place on the exam table. "What? What look?"

"I don't know...,you looked...somewhere else..." He looked at her carefully.

Cuddy swallowed, but didn't respond right away.

She took a breath. "I - I don't know if I can do this," she confessed quietly, as her voice quivered slightly. She lifted her eyes to look at him.

House leaned forward on the stool and reached for her hands, taking them both in his own. He waited until he knew he had her full attention.

"Lisa, listen to me," he began quietly, looking into her eyes, "you can. You can do this. We've come this far...trust me, you're ready."

She nodded, a tear escaping from the corner of her eye.

House let go of her hand and wiped the tear away, stroking her warm cheek.

"It'll be okay."

"What if - "

"Stop," House told her gently. "You're stressing yourself out more than you should be, okay?"

"You need to relax," he continued, as he moved his hand to rest on her stomach. "It's not good for you or him."

A knock on the door interrupted them.

"Just a minute," House told Parker. He focused again on Cuddy.

"You can do this," he told her softly. "You're stressed out, and you can't do that. Not now."

Cuddy squeezed his hand. "I love you," she whispered.

House leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. Before he pulled away, he whispered in her ear.

"Ten more weeks."

Straightening up, he limped to the door, opening it.

"She's freaking out," he told Parker in a low voice.

"Let me talk to her." Parker stepped into the room, rolling a cart with the machine on it. He closed the door behind him.

After plugging the cord into the wall, and sitting down on the stool that House wasn't occupying, Parker fixed his patient with a serious expression.

"I want you to take the day off," he told her as he began to connect wires to the straps that were set to go around Cuddy's abdomen.

"You need to relax. Everything you can do today, you can do tomorrow. You need to rest. You're getting worn down," he continued, quietly.

Cuddy opened her mouth to refute him, but Parker held up his hand.

"Lisa, this is not a request. You are at thirty weeks. You need to take it easy."

He pulled out a blood pressure cuff from the drawer beside the table and tossed it to House. "I want you to take her BP every three hours," he said to House, who nodded.

He turned back to his patient.

"You're stressed, having headaches, and your BP is high. We don't want this to turn into preeclampsia."

He glanced at House again. "And make sure she doesn't do any of this 'working from home' crap...that's not taking it easy."

"Look," he told Cuddy, "I understand you want to fight me on this. But, as your doctor, I am telling you that you need to stop working as hard as you normally do. Your health needs to be your priority, especially now that we are nearing the home stretch, okay?"

Cuddy nodded silently, knowing it was pointless to argue.

"Good. Shall we continue?"

Downstairs, Lisa Cuddy's office.

After leaving Parker, Cuddy made her downstairs to her office to pack up for the day, on Parker's orders. She was frustrated at his request, but she understood why he did it: she could use the day off to relax.

House appeared in her office doorway not even ten minutes later, with the car keys in his hand.

"Ready?"

Cuddy nodded.

While she locked up, House talked to Brenda, Cuddy's assistant, who was sitting at her desk, outside Cuddy's office.

"Remember, no phone calls, no emails. She's supposed to take the day off, so no work. At all."

Brenda smirked and snapped her hand to her forehead at attention.

"Yes, sir!"

House rolled his eyes. "Not necessary."

Cuddy finished locking up then came out to meet them. "Did he give you the lecture?" she asked her head nurse, who chuckled.

"Yes he did. No calls, no emails. Everything can wait until tomorrow."

"Until it can't," Cuddy replied.

"Will you stop?" House said to her. "C'mon, let's go. The hospital is not going to burn down in a day. Bye, Brenda."

Cuddy leaned over Brenda's desk. "Call my cell if it's anything important," she whispered in a low voice that only Brenda could hear, before turning and following House through the clinic towards the lobby.

TBC