7 months (may 17th)

House sits on the chair in his office, his feet resting on the ottoman, with Rachel on the floor below him. He tosses his ball from hand to hand as he stares at his white board and tries to visualize the missing piece of the puzzle.

"Maybe it's his tummy," Rachel says, trying to help. She has a bunch of half-days of school this week for some reason that House already forgot, and he volunteered to hang out with her for the afternoon. He didn't anticipate having a patient, and had planned to ditch work. Luckily Rachel never seems to mind spending time at the hospital, especially when it means she gets to play doctor.

"Nice try, but we already scoped him."

To anyone else conversing with a five-year old about diagnostic procedures would be ridiculous, but Rachel has caused him to have breakthroughs more than once before, so he's happy to indulge her.

"Scope?" She questions, the medical lingo going over her head.

"We shoved a camera down his throat."

Her eyes go wide as she visualizes his description. "That sounds... ouchies."

"Nah, he was asleep and didn't feel it," House throws the ball to her, impressed by her quick hand-eye coordination. "Nice catch, kid."

"Thanks. Maybe it's his back or his neck?"

"You just gonna name random body parts now?"

Rachel shrugs, but amazingly, an idea pops into his mind. "CNS involvement fits— maybe a spinal tap is the way to go."

"A what?"

"We stick a needle in his back so we can take out the fluid and see what's in it. Which actually is 'ouchies.' But it can tell us a lot and it's not the worst idea you've ever had."

House gets up and goes next door to give instructions to his team. When he returns and sits back down, he focuses solely on Rachel, and on something that he's been wanting to talk to her about for a few days. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes," she nods enthusiastically. "What is it?"

"Can you keep a secret from your mom?" He clarifies.

"Oh," she considers the request. "I'm not supposed to."

"I think you can make a one time exception when it's for her own good. I have a surprise for her, and I want you to help me, but only if you can keep your mouth shut."

"I wanna help."

"Then you have to be sure you won't blow it for me."

"I'm sure."

"Do you swear on Nessa's life?"

"Yes."

"And Liv?"

"Pirate Liv or baby Liv?"

"Both of them."

"I swear."

"Good. Then tomorrow after school you'll come with me to pick out your mom's present. When she asks where we went, you have to say we were at the park."

"Okay."

"So where are we going tomorrow after school?" House tests her.

"The park."

House clears his throat to do his best imitation of Cuddy. "Which park did House take you to, honey?"

Rachel laughs at his high-pitched impression. "The one right by school with the yellow slide."

"Nice attention to detail."

"Why does mom get a present? It's not her birthday."

"Do you know what an anniversary is?"

"No."

"On Thursday it will be two years since your mom and I started dating."

In a way it feels like two years have flown by, but at the same time, the years Before Cuddy — with all their darkness, loneliness, and pain — feel like a distant memory. He's not one to be overly sappy, and neither is Cuddy for that matter, but he could never ignore the day his whole life changed for the better.

"Mom said you kissed in college," Rachel tells him, looking skeptical at his claim. "That wasn't two years ago."

House had no idea she was aware of any part of their history, especially the G-rated version of their night in Michigan, but he finds it incredibly amusing. "She told you that?"

"She said she liked you since a long, long time ago. Like a million years ago in school."

"I'm going to ignore your reference to how old we are and confirm that we did kiss in college. Then I got kicked out of school so I had to leave."

"You left after you kissed her?! That's so mean. She probably thought you didn't like her back."

"I didn't want to leave. I had to. Hence, kicked out."

"You got in trouble?"

"I did."

"How come?"

"Because I wasn't good at following rules."

"You're still no good at that."

"True."

House is considering whether one of the rules he's not good at following is the unspoken one where parents lie to their children to avoid setting a bad example — before he can decide, he gets distracted by the sound of Cuddy's heels walking down the hallway towards his office. "Knock knock," she says a few seconds later from the doorway, saving him from further explanation.

"Who is it?" House asks in a sing-song voice.

"Rachel's mom."

"Hmm. What's the password, Rachel's mom?"

"Password? How about — this is my hospital and I'm coming in."

"We were actually looking for farts spelled with a z."

"Of course you were," Cuddy plops down on the chair with him. "Hi."

"Hey," he says, adoring the mere sight of her. "You look pretty."

"I definitely don't. I'm so sweaty. I even asked maintenance to turn the AC up."

But Rachel takes House's side. "You do look pretty, mama."

"Thank you, baby. I swear today is going so slow. I can't believe it's only 1:30. Any chance you're in the mood to run away together?"

"Sure," House plays along. "Where to?"

"How about a seaside cottage in Ireland? People in movies are always doing that."

"There're only 1,948 Jews in the whole country, Cuddy."

"Why on earth do you know that exact number?"

"I'm looking out for you and your people."

"What about Scotland? I'm guessing there's also not a large Jewish population, but at least I'd get to see you in a kilt."

"But then you'd have to spend all your time fighting off the ladies fawning over me."

"I could take them."

"I'm sure you could, but that's not very relaxing, which is the whole point of running away together."

"True," Cuddy concedes. "I guess we should probably stay here then."

"I can offer you an exotic trip to the cafeteria for lunch while my team does a spinal tap."

"That sounds good. I'm cranky and craving everything."

"Everything? Like what?"

"Pistachio ice cream in a waffle cone. Turkey on rye toast with mustard and pickles. Really salty chips and salsa. Sweet potato fries."

"I think they have regular fries today."

"Close enough."

"Someone should invent a service that delivers all the garbage pregnant women crave on demand."

"That service is usually provided by the father, House."

"But what about fathers who work at the very hospital where the mom is the boss and will definitely yell at them if they let a patient croak while they go find sweet potato fries?"

"Sucks to be them."

"I'll say."

"Wait a minute," Cuddy processes his earlier statement. "What's the spinal tap for?"

Rachel speaks up, answering for him. "He's gotta get the back fluid so he can figure out what's wrong."

"I'm not even a little surprised that she's fluent in medical procedures before she knows how to do multiplication."

"I can teach her multiplication this weekend, if you want."

Rachel stands up, approaches them, and gently puts her hand on Cuddy's stomach. "Hi Liv," she says in a loud whisper.

"Rachel, you know that's not really her name, right?"

"I know, but House didn't pick her real name yet, so I'm going to call her that until he does."

"That's fine, but I don't want you to be disappointed when we call her something else."

Rachel pats the baby bump confidently. "I won't be."

/—


On the afternoon of their anniversary Cuddy sneaks home on her lunch break because she has this brilliant plan to surprise House by moving the rest of his stuff out of his apartment. Moving is stressful enough for people without chronic pain and she doesn't want him to have to think about Mayfield again. It's also in her nature to want things settled— she wants to know they're ready for the baby— and being ready means that House is fully with them, furniture and all.

She's typing out one last email on her phone with detailed instructions, even though the moving company has assured her multiple times that they know what they're doing. She's just so paranoid about the damn piano because if anything happens to it House will kill her and her great idea will blow up in her face.

"Mama," Rachel appears by her side, grabbing her free hand. "I wanna play outside."

"Give me one second, sweetheart."

"No, we have to go outside now."

"Why?" Cuddy asks suspiciously, because it's out of character for Rachel to be so demanding. "What's outside?"

"I gotta take you outside!"

"Okay," Cuddy puts down her phone after finishing the email. Then, much to her surprise, she hears the sound of the ice cream truck pulling onto their block, which Rachel must've heard first. "Oh— you want ice cream?"

"Yes."

"It's a little early in the year for the ice cream truck. It usually doesn't show up until late June."

"Who cares? It's here now. Let's go!"

Cuddy allows her daughter to drag her out the front door and the two of them approach the truck, with its unmistakable music and flashing lights. "Hi," she greets the man inside.

"Are you Lisa Cuddy?" He asks her.

"Yes? How did you know that?"

"Because this is for you."

He hands her a menu — the top reads happy anniversary to my hangry baby mama. On it is every ridiculous item she's been craving lately. The pistachio ice cream. The turkey on rye. The sweet potato fries. She bursts out laughing and then turns to a grinning Rachel, whose behavior suddenly makes a lot more sense. "You knew about this?"

"I helped! It's your 'versary."

"It is," she confirms, looking back at the man in the truck. "Is this menu real?"

"Yeah, I have all of it. You can pick out what you want now but I'm also supposed to unload the rest of it in your kitchen."

"Of course. I guess we'll take the ice cream now."

"Sure thing," he says, scooping out the pistachio and then handing her two waffle cones. "I mean this in the nicest way possible, but your husband is a little insane."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that."

She doesn't bother to correct the assumption because she's not mad that House is exuding husband energy. If she's honest with herself, Cuddy thinks about marriage all the time. It's the last piece of the puzzle, really. It's also the one subject she won't ever broach with him, as much as she may want to.

The logical side of her knows there's simply too much going on for them right now to throw marriage into the mix. House has adjusted so well to the most unexpected news, and she's not going to push her luck by expecting anything more.

She has everything she wants anyway. They're having a baby. Rachel calls him dad. By the end of the day all of his stuff will be under her roof. It'll be their roof. She doesn't need a ring on her finger to know how much House loves them—to know that he'd do anything for them. He shows them in so many ways. He's always been a man of action anyway.

Still.

That doesn't mean her romantic side can't dream.

/—


House purposely gets home late that night, because it's all part of his anniversary plan. Cuddy thinks he was stuck at the hospital working his case, but he spent most of the evening preparing. He thought he would be nervous, considering the gravity of it all, but instead he feels a strange sense of calm settling inside of him.

He walks in the house and notices the way Cuddy has rearranged the living room to include a bunch of his furniture and books. He's not surprised, but it's a soothing sight nonetheless— concrete proof of how their individual lives have merged without either of them losing their identities.

"You moved the rest of my stuff."

"I did," Cuddy confirms from the couch. "But you knew that already because you hacked into my email so you would know where to send the ice cream truck."

"I didn't mean to spoil your surprise," he admits, feeling a bit bad about it. "And it doesn't make you doing this any less awesome."

"Yeah?" She asks, sounding uncertain.

He nods, glancing towards the corner of the living room, which is now occupied by his favorite instrument. "The piano looks good."

"That spot was just my first thought, we can move it to wherever you want."

"I like it there. You have good taste — as evidenced by the fact that you've been dating me for two years and in love with me for a million before that."

"A million, huh?"

"That's the estimate Rachel gave me."

"You want to test out the piano? Play me something?"

Cuddy looks so tired, and he knows that she is. She worked all day and expended what little energy she had left on making this a home for him, too.

"Later." He walks over to the couch, leans down to kiss her, and then takes a blindfold out of his pocket and ties it around her head, covering her eyes so she can't see. "We have something else to do first."

"Not out here, House," Cuddy protests. "Rachel could wake up. Let's go to the bedroom."

"It's great that your mind goes right to dirty-town, but the blindfold isn't for what you think. It's for taking you to your present."

"What are you talking about? I already got my present."

"That wasn't your real present."

"You sending a truck personalized with all the food I've been craving wasn't my present?"

"Nope."

"It was a decoy present?"

"It was a clue."

"How could that be a clue? Did you buy a whole restaurant or something?"

"No— but that would've been cool. Maybe next year."

Just then, Rachel sneaks out of her room, her backpack secured on her back. "I'm ready!"

"What is Rachel doing up?" Cuddy asks when she hears her daughter's voice.

"She's coming with us. We can't just leave her here all alone while we go off galivanting on anniversary adventures. Geez— how bad is your pregnancy brain?"

"House— it's way too late at night for Rachel to be 'galivanting' anywhere."

"This is important and it won't take that long."

House doesn't claim importance too often because he knows that when he does Cuddy will listen. It goes back to that first morning when he asked her to turn off her phone so they could be together without interruption.

"Okay," Cuddy predictably relents. "Let's get whatever ridiculous antics you've got planned over with."

He grabs the car keys, loving that she assumes he's up to no good.

/—


House carefully leads a blindfolded Cuddy through the building's hallway, with Rachel at his side.

"Why are we at your apartment?" Cuddy questions, picking up on their whereabouts.

"Can you see?" He checks to make sure the blindfold hasn't loosened. "You better not be cheating."

"I can't see anything, but I've been to your apartment enough times to know how long it takes to get here and what the hallway smells like."

"Impressive deduction skills. Want to join my team?"

"No, thanks. I don't enjoy digging up bodies. What are we doing here?"

"Your present is at my apartment."

"The apartment I had everything moved out of?"

"I did appreciate the irony of that."

"What if I moved my own present?"

"You didn't. Your present is in my pocket."

"Then why are we here?"

"Your lack of patience is astounding."

"You blind-folded a pregnant control freak in the middle of the night, what did you expect?"

"I expected you to act exactly like this, which only makes it more fun."

House opens the door to the apartment, which is now bare save for a few remaining items. Even though his furniture has only just made the official move, he genuinely can't remember the last time he spent the night away from Cuddy. On the rare occasion that he does, it's only because he's working a case. Staying at the hospital overnight used to mean he had a puzzle to distract him from the empty space inside of him. Now it means he doesn't get to fall asleep in Cuddy's arms, a feeling he's become accustomed to.

He leads her through the living room, into the bathroom, and positions her against the door— the exact same place she stood two years ago. Then he steps back, carefully lowers himself to the ground, and silently instructs Rachel to come stand next to him.

"Okay," he says from his spot on the floor. "You can take off the blindfold."

She does, rustling her hair in the process. House thinks it's perfect, considering the messes they were on the night he's trying to recapture.

"House? What are you doing?"

"Recreating the most pivotal moment of my life," he explains. "Except without the Vicodin, and with the added bonus of a rugrat."

"I love you," Cuddy says, like she can't hold it in. "Somehow even more than I did two years ago, which is so crazy because..."

"Hey" he interrupts. "I know you did most of the talking that night, but I'm going to need you to shut up, because it's my turn."

"Sorry," Cuddy smirks. "Go ahead."

But he's quiet for a minute, trying to organize the words he's practiced as they jumble around his mind.

"You okay?"

"I've been thinking a lot recently about how my life has revolved around decisions made by you."

"Oh?"

"And that's not a complaint. You decided to hire me when no one else would. You decided to let me be myself—to let me work how I work, even when it puts your job at risk, and when no one else understands it."

"So many lives have been saved because of how you work."

"You decided to become a mom, which scared the hell out of me at the time, because I was still being a selfish jerk, but it turns out I'm crazy about this kid who bosses me around as much as you do."

Rachel perks up at the reference to her, mesmerized by the interaction between her parents.

"And then," House continues, "then you decided to come here and fight for us at the exact moment I was ready to give up. Everything good that's ever happened to me is because you decided to do something courageous."

"The funny thing about that is you're the one who makes me courageous. You've taught me so much about not hesitating to jump."

"I need you to make another decision. And it's an important one."

"Okay?"

"Except I figured it was time for you to stop doing all the heavy-lifting in this relationship, and for me to go after what I want."

"What do you want?"

House reaches into the inside pocket of his leather jacket, pulls out a small black box, and opens it to reveal a ring. "To marry you."

Cuddy is speechless— a true rarity. He watches her chest rise and fall as she realizes what he's asking. "I... never thought you'd do this," she finally manages to get out. "Especially not now."

"I think it's good I can still surprise you."

"I hope you don't feel pressured by the baby."

"You think I'm scared of Arlene with a shotgun?"

"I'm just checking."

Even now, she's trying to take care of him— but House is more than happy to quell her concern.

"The baby has to do with it, but not because I feel pressured. I feel like we've gotten a lot closer lately. Which, I dunno, at some point we should probably stop or we're just going to turn into one — albeit very awesome and very hot— person."

"I feel it, too. These last few months...everything we've been through and had to talk about…it made you ready?"

"It was never about being ready, Cuddy. I knew it that first morning, in this bathtub. I had your hand in mine and I was playing with your ring finger thinking about this. But doing it now feels... right. And I know that I want it. Do you?"

"You have no idea how much," Cuddy says. "I've known for a long time that this is it. I want to be able to call you my husband more than anything."

"Mama," Rachel whines, growing bored with their conversation, and wanting to get to the action she was promised. "Say yes."

"Good to know you're about as patient as your mom," House quips.

"I am saying yes, Rachel."

The one syllable hits him, and he extends his hand to her. "You know how this part goes."

Cuddy helps him up and he kisses her gently, then pulls away to slide the ring onto her finger. "This ring," Cuddy marvels at the single 3 carat diamond and elegant gold band, "is unreal."

"Oh, it's very real." House turns around. "Rachel, your backpack?"

Rachel takes her bag off her shoulder and unzips it, pulling out a bottle that she needs to hold with two hands.

"My daughter has been walking around carrying a bottle of champagne!?"

"You're pregnant and she's five. I'm not that irresponsible. It's sparkling cider." But then House leans down to pull a sword out of the bathtub. "I am a little irresponsible though."

"Oh my god," Cuddy laughs. "Of course."

"We need to celebrate in accordance with House family tradition."

"Whoa," Rachel gasps at the sight of it. "Where did you get a sword?"

"I bought it."

"How come?"

"Because," Cuddy answers. "Your dad is a wonderful lunatic."

"Why don't you go get the glasses from the kitchen, kid? Remember where I showed you?"

Rachel nods and runs off, giving them a second alone.

"Go to see we're sticking with all life-changing conversations in the bathroom."

"House family tradition," he repeats.

She steps closer to hold him and pulls him in for a hug. "I told you it was going to be great."

/—


Cuddy's adrenaline is still pumping in the car on the way home. When House said he had another surprise for her, she assumed it was something ridiculous and obnoxious like fireworks or a five foot tall cake. An engagement was the last thing she would've ever guessed, even though it's the thing she wanted most.

"How was the ice cream truck a clue?" She ponders out loud as House drives, and Rachel sleeps in her car seat.

"He called me your husband, did he not?"

"You made him say that?"

"I was planting the seed."

"You're...something else."

"Yeah— and now you're stuck with me for life."

She has genuine butterflies in her stomach at the mere idea of it. "I think Lisa House has a nice ring to it."

"Wait— you're not changing your name, are you?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you're Cuddy."

"Exactly— you use Cuddy as my first name, so it's not like I'm in any danger of ever losing my identity. It'll probably be too confusing to use 'House' at work, but I don't see why I shouldn't change it everywhere else."

"You changing your name at work would be the best part!" He objects. "Dr. House — Dean of Medicine."

"At work I can hyphenate."

"Will you at least put the House part on your door?"

"Definitely."

"That is going to piss off so many people. Hourani. Nurse Jeffrey. Kaufman."

"I'm glad we've already gotten to the petty benefits of this engagement."

Behind them, Rachel stirs for a second, but doesn't wake up. "Can I ask why you brought her with us? I love that you did, I'm just surprised you didn't get a sitter."

"Because I know you," House explains. "And when you tell this story in the future you're going to say the baby was there when we got engaged."

"True."

"You also specifically told me that you want Rachel and the baby to be the same, so it felt unfair to leave her out."

Cuddy literally loses her breath for a second — there are people who don't believe House is capable of such a selfless thought process, but she knows better. When House uses his ability to read people and applies it to the ones he loves, he's unstoppable.

"You know," she says, a bit teary-eyed. "Rachel House doesn't sound too bad, either."

He turns to her, shocked. "Seriously?"

"Would that be okay?

"Am I okay with getting credit for Rachel when you did all the work for the first two years of her life? Uh, yeah."

"Good."

"Arlene is going to hate that."

"Probably."

"Wilson on the other hand will be fangirling."

"Speaking of Wilson, can you stop by his place on the way home? I want to show him the ring."

"You think Wilson hasn't seen the ring? Wilson and Rachel were with me when I picked it out."

"They were? That's sweet."

"No, it was practical. I needed a woman's opinion. The best I could do was combine Wilson and a kindergartner."

"Well he may have seen it, but he hasn't seen it on me."

"He can see it on you tomorrow. We have a once in a lifetime opportunity to have combination engagement and anniversary sex and we are cutting it dangerously close to midnight."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have proposed so late at night."

"What part of recreating the moment do you not get?"

"Don't worry, Wilson and I won't talk for long."

"Wow, that's the first lie you told as my fiancée."

But House makes the turn anyway.

/—


Wilson is already waiting for them in the parking lot of his apartment building by the time they pull in. Cuddy gets out of the car and hugs him. House watches his two best friends embrace in celebration and as much as he complained about the detour, it's a cool thing to witness.

"So when's the wedding?" Wilson asks when they pull apart.

"After I push this small human out of my body," Cuddy says. "I waited 40 years to get married, I'd like to at least fit into a dress."

"That sounds fair."

"You're coming dress shopping with me, by the way. You're the closest thing I'll have to a maid of honor."

"What the hell?" House says from the car. "You can't steal my best man."

"I'm the bride. I can do whatever I want."

"Then two can play that game. I'll make Rachel my best man."

"Good," Cuddy says, unfazed. "I hope you enjoy your princess themed bachelor party."

"Cuddy. You have a sister. I know you were her maid of honor. I've seen the horrible pictures. Aren't you supposed to return the favor?"

"Are you saying you want Julia involved with this wedding?"

"No, but—"

"I can't bring Julia dress shopping, you know what would happen."

"What would happen?" Wilson asks, hesitantly wading in.

"Arlene would find out, show up, and call Cuddy a slut," House says.

Cuddy nods. "Wilson on the other hand will be nice to me and he knows you. He's the only option."

Wilson sighs. "So what I'm hearing is that I'm going to be pulling double duty and doing everything for both of you?"

"Probably," Cuddy agrees. "But I promise it won't be so bad. I don't want a big wedding."

"You don't?" House is relieved to hear.

"Not at all. The obligation invitations would never end. I don't want Sanford Wells and the whole board watching us get married. I don't want people there who aren't really part of our lives."

He beams at her with pride and then turns to Wilson. "Did I not find the perfect woman?"

"Don't even start that with me, House. I'm the one who told you she was perfect for you years ago."

"You did," Cuddy remembers. "You could always see it. You were the first person who had faith in us. Who thought we could wind up here."

"Only in my wildest dreams did you end up husband and wife," Wilson says. "Wow, I just realized how insufferable you two are going to be when you can use those terms."

"Hey!" Cuddy feigns offense.

"Do you not remember the first two months of you two dating? Obsessively calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"If you're gonna insult us, we're gonna leave," House says impatiently. "Let's go, Cuddy."

Wilson opens the car door for her, helps her in, then leans in through the window. "I'm proud of you, House."

He knows that Wilson means it, and if he's honest, he's proud of himself too. Of course he would never admit that out loud. "Move before I run over your foot," he says instead.

Wilson kisses Cuddy on the cheek. "Goodnight, Mrs. House."

"See?!" Cuddy says, eyes glistening, and looking like she just won an argument. "It sounds so good."


8 months

(shades of gray)

House and Cuddy sit on a bench on the fourth floor of the hospital, right outside Dr. McArthur's office.

"She still has time to turn," House says, trying to be encouraging. They just had their most recent check up, and learned that the baby is breech.

"She's not going to turn," Cuddy answers flatly.

"Why not?"

"Because my amniotic fluid is on the low side."

"We're going to do the amnioinfusion."

"Then because it's us, and nothing can ever go smoothly."

All the anxiety she thought she had put behind her is flooding her senses all over again. She feels her heart rate creeping back up and the tension in her muscles tightening.

House, sensing the start of a spiral, puts a hand on her knee. "I can't wait until she's born so I can go back to being the pessimist in this relationship."

"Never thought I'd say this, but I miss you being the pessimist, too."

"If you have to have a C-section, it'll be fine. There's no reason to think it wouldn't be. If you were treating yourself, you'd say there's nothing to worry about."

"Logically, I know that. But these last few weeks, in the engagement bubble, we've been so happy. I knew something was going to come along and burst it."

"I agree that the bubble isn't sustainable," he says. "But this? This isn't a 'bursting'— this is a simple medical fact that can be easily dealt with."

"I guess."

"You want to nervously twirl little, little Greg?" House offers, holding his cane out in front of her. "Get out some of that anxious energy?"

She briefly runs her fingers over the material, somehow it makes her feel as connected to him as his hand on her knee. "Thanks, but I don't have time. I have to get downstairs for lunch with Wilson and those potential oncology donors."

"You can be a few minutes late."

"It's always better when I'm distracted with work."

She stands up, but House grabs on to her hand, preventing her from walking away. "Cuddy."

"I promise I'm okay to go downstairs."

And because he can always tell the difference between her lies and her truth, he lets her go.

/—


Cuddy gets through lunch and convinces the donors to give a substantial amount — more than she needed or expected them to give. She sits with Wilson as they debrief, reaching across the table to grab some hash browns off his plate.

"So it's true," Wilson teases as he watches her. "Couples who spend too much time together do start to look alike."

"Sorry, that was very House of me."

"Have at it," he pushes his plate closer to her. "How was the appointment this morning?"

"She's breech."

"Of course she is. You didn't expect House's child to be facing the right way, did you?"

It makes her laugh, even though she doesn't find the situation funny. "I hadn't thought of it like that, but you make a good point."

"You okay?"

"A little stressed. Everything has felt too good to be true lately. I'm not even sure people are meant to be as happy as we've been. So now it feels like this will be the thing that messes it all up."

"It won't be. We both know House is going to make sure your baby gets into this world safe and sound."

"You're right," she says, hoping that stating it out loud will make it so.

"Are you still seeing Nolan?"

"Once a week. He helps. I do know that House and I both expect the worst even when it's not likely to materialize."

"You're not used to having good news. It's an adjustment. It's okay to still be scared. The difference is now you're not letting that stop you from enjoying life."

"We're trying at least. House working to convince me to be less worried about things going wrong is so weird. He's obviously right about the medicine, and I know it comes from a place of pure reason, but it's still a sight to behold."

"And only you could manage to bring that out of him."

Just then, Taub approaches their table, looking nervous. "Dr. Cuddy. We need you upstairs."

"Alright," she glances up at him, not in any real hurry. "We're almost done here."

"We really need you now."

"Oh, god," she sits back and sighs. "What's broken? Or worse, who's dead?"

"No one's dead."

"Do I need a lawyer?"

"No."

Cuddy will kill House — but not be surprised, or even blame him for that matter — if he took his own nervous energy about their appointment and turned it into workplace chaos that she'll need to clean up. She gets up from the table, knowing she has no choice but to deal with whatever it is.

"I'm coming with," Wilson says, standing up to follow her. "This sounds too good not to see for myself."

The three of them make their way upstairs, and when they approach House's office, Cuddy is instantly on high alert. "Why the hell are all the blinds closed?"

Taub doesn't answer, so Cuddy picks up her pace. She storms into the room, ready for an old-fashioned fight with House, to scold the man she loves as a reckless employee.

Instead, she almost slams directly into her sister. "Julia!?"

"Hey, sis. Welcome to your baby shower."

"What?!"

Cuddy looks around at the room. It's not decorated in typical baby-shower fashion— but it is decorated. There's a diaper cake in the shape of a motorcycle, tiny baby scrubs, cupcakes with stethoscope fondant on the top.

"House and I fought over this for weeks," Julia tells her. "He said you wouldn't want a 'stupid baby shower' with people you 'don't even like' when you 'have enough money to buy whatever you want.'"

"You're welcome," House says, perched on his desk.

"But I said I'm throwing my sister a shower, whether she wants one or not. Eventually we compromised and he let me use his office."

"The timing worked out well," House adds. "For distraction purposes, that is."

Cuddy can't imagine how he felt this morning, knowing that this was planned, and having to worry that she was going to lose it on a day he wanted to be light and fun. The timing of her lunch with Wilson, and the donors he found out of seemingly nowhere, now also make sense.

"It's perfect," she says. "I love it."

"Have I ever mentioned how weird you two are?" Julia jokes.

Happiness seeps through again, just when Cuddy thought it was all down to more stress. She's learning to find moments of joy within the chaos. Somehow it's a lesson she's learned from House and his philosophy that even the most miserable days are still worth living through.

It's a small group— her sister (not Arlene, who would never understand any of this), Wilson, House's team, her assistant, and a few of the nurses and doctors she's closest with. Less than fifteen in total. She lets herself enjoy it. The food, the small talk, and the presents, which range from practical to ridiculous.

"That's from the whole team," Thirteen tells her, as she opens one.

It's a soft, light pink onesie— adorable, but maybe not what she would've expected from them. Until Thirteen clarifies. "That's the back. You have to turn it over."

On the front, in big white lettering, it reads: I wasn't lupus.

Cuddy bursts out laughing. House groans, drops his face into his hands. "You told them?!"

"No!" Cuddy defends. "I thought only Wilson knew!"

Wilson shrugs. "I might've mentioned it to Chase."

"It's the best story ever," Thirteen says. "It's strangely comforting to know that even the great Dr. House has a ginormous blind spot when it comes to the woman he loves. It really humanizes him."

Cuddy understands what Thirteen is getting at. She doesn't feel like a blind spot though. In fact, she feels more loved than ever before.

/—


On Saturday afternoon Cuddy is home alone, with several piles of laundry sprawled out in front of her on the living room floor, when her cell phone rings. She internally cringes at the thought of her day being interrupted by something at the hospital, but relaxes a little when she sees Wilson's name on the screen.

"Hi, Wilson."

"I'm sorry!"

"For what?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"What could you have possibly done?" She's confused not only by what he's saying, but by the rushed tone of his voice. "Wait— are you with House at the hospital?"

"No. I accidentally…"

His explanation is interrupted by a loud knock on the door. "Hold on," she says, getting up from the couch. "Someone's here."

"I know. And I'm really sorry."

Cuddy doesn't understand what the hell he's talking about until she opens the door. "Oh." She recognizes the woman standing in front of her, even though she hasn't laid eyes on her in years. She hangs up on Wilson, puts down the phone, and tries to compose herself. "Hi."

Blythe House looks down, directly at Cuddy's baby bump. "That's… that's my grandchild, right?"

"Yes."

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

Cuddy leads her inside, mortified by the state of her home. With Rachel at a playdate and House at work, she was planning on using this time to organize, and maybe get a bit more done in the nursery. There are still breakfast dishes in the sink. There are toys on the floor. She's wearing leggings, one of House's shirts, and no makeup. It's not the impression she would want to make on her future mother-in-law.

"I apologize for the mess," she says, trying to move laundry out of the way. "I'm guessing Wilson told you about the baby?"

"Not directly," Blythe explains. "He posted some pictures from what looked like a work baby shower on Facebook? He must've forgotten that we're friends on there. I thought I was seeing things for a minute. Was my son planning to tell me before you gave birth?"

Cuddy stops in her tracks, considers the question, which she probably should've asked him herself. "I... honestly don't know the answer to that."

"That's okay. I'm pretty sure I do."

It's not that Cuddy hasn't wanted to ask House about this, but it's the one subject she doesn't feel comfortable pushing him on. She knows enough about his childhood to understand that it's a sensitive topic — she's always believed any conversations about it have to happen on his terms.

"Can I get you coffee?" Cuddy offers, hoping to ease the tension. "Tea? Water?"

"Coffee would be great. Cream and sugar, if you have it."

Cuddy goes to the kitchen, but realizes she left her phone on the table near the front door, so she has no way to text House and warn him. He could be home any minute, depending on what's happening with his patient, and she has no clue what his reaction to their unexpected visitor will be.

She focuses on brewing the coffee, still flustered, momentarily forgetting where they even keep the sugar. She knows there are a million things she wants to ask and talk to Blythe about, but whether it's pregnancy brain or pure shock, she can't think of a single one.

Cuddy walks back into the living room with a cup of coffee, and places it down on the table in front of Blythe. When she goes to pull away, Blythe grabs her wrist, holding her in place, and staring at the giant ring on her finger. "You're engaged!?" She looks like she's about to start crying, which makes Cuddy feel guilty as hell. "When did this happen?"

"Last month. On our two-year anniversary."

Blythe releases her. "I'm going to have a daughter-in-law. And a grandchild."

"Granddaughter," Cuddy corrects, sitting down across from her.

"It's a girl?"

"Yes. And technically you'll have two granddaughters."

"Twins?!"

"No, no— I'm sorry. We have another daughter. Her name is Rachel."

"What… what do you mean?"

Cuddy realizes that her wording could imply that they already went through a pregnancy together, which given the last few minutes, Blythe would probably be inclined to believe. "I adopted Rachel when she was a newborn, as a single mom, before House and I were together. But the two of them are very close now. He's the only dad she's ever known and she completely adores him."

"So he has a fiancée, a daughter, and another one on the way? But this was all somehow not worthy of a single call home?"

"I don't think it's personal."

"How can you say that?"

Cuddy thinks back to her conversation with Wilson earlier that week. "Because I think he's really happy, and he's scared to do anything to jeopardize that."

"Why on earth would I jeopardize his happiness?"

"I'm not saying you would. But House and I….we both struggle with sharing good news because we're not used to having it. I don't think we know how to talk about it. I don't think he was hiding anything on purpose. I think he didn't know how to tell you."

"I see."

"I know that doesn't make it less hurtful. And I'm really sorry you had to find out on Facebook. You have every right to be mad."

Blythe nods, processing the apology. "I'd like the chance to get to know you. All I really know is that you're my son's boss, that you've kept him employed all these years, and that you're in almost all the stories Wilson has ever told me. But I don't really know you."

"I'd like to know you, too. House is so important to me, and I..."

Cuddy doesn't get to finish her thought, because the front door swings open, and House walks inside holding a giant u-shaped pillow "Look what I got you," he announces, his vision blocked by the gift, leaving him oblivious to who else is there. "One of those maternity pillows. They're supposed to help with circulation and…"

"House," Cuddy cuts him off, hoping he'll get a hint from her serious inflection.

It works. He puts the pillow down and then realizes exactly who is sitting on their couch. "Oh. Shit."

"That's a lovely greeting from my only child who hasn't seen me in years."

"Sorry. I'm just surprised. Wilson couldn't have warned me that he ratted us out?"

"Ratted you out?! I'm your mother."

"You could've at least called."

"Funny, I could say the same thing about you."

They're in a standoff. Cuddy watches the back and forth, mother and son equally determined; it's easy to see the resemblance between them.

"I only came home to drop this off," House says, changing the subject, and looking for an escape route. "I have to go pick Rachel up from her friend's house."

"Why don't you bring your mom with you?" Cuddy suggests. "She can meet Rachel and you two can catch up on the way there."

She's certain House hates the idea, but he won't say no to her, and it will give her the chance to change and clean up a little before they get back. Besides, he has no choice but to face this now. She figures sooner is better than later.

/—


House has never been able to lie to his mom—- not the casual way Cuddy lies to Arlene. It's a big part of why he avoids her. Except this time he avoided her for so long that it became harder and harder to face her. It became impossible to pick up the phone and find the words to tell her that Cuddy is eight months pregnant, or that they're getting married. He hates that he left Cuddy to be bombarded by his cowardice, doesn't know what his damn problem is, or why it has to be so hard.

"I should've told you," he admits as he drives, his mom in the passenger seat.

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't even know."

"Your fiancée thinks you don't know how to share good news, because you're not used to having it."

"She didn't become Dean of Medicine by being an idiot."

"When is she due?"

"End of next month."

"She said you've been dating for two years?"

"Yeah. You knew that. Wilson told you, didn't he?"

"He mentioned you two were spending a lot of time together. I guess I didn't realize it was this serious. When did you first know you had feelings for her? As more than a friend and boss, I mean."

"Technically? At Michigan. We sort of had a thing there before I got expelled."

Blythe looks shocked by the revelation. "Really?"

"True story."

"Exactly how long have you been in love with this woman?"

House thinks there's no simple answer to that question, because sometimes he's sure he's loved Cuddy since the first second he saw her, but he also knows his love for her has deepened and matured in so many ways since then. He gives the only honest answer he can think of. "I can't remember what it's like to not be in love with her."

"And Rachel?"

"You'll see. She's a really great kid. Nothing like me."

"You were a great kid, too."

Maybe this is also why he avoids her. She means well, but it hurts him to hear. Because whether she knew about it or not, House wasn't treated like a great kid by his father.

He bites his tongue, because it's not worth rehashing now. It wouldn't do them any good, because it wouldn't change a thing.

Thankfully, a few minutes later, they arrive at Rachel's friend's house. They're playing together in the front yard, but when Rachel spots his car, she grabs her stuff and runs over.

"Hi!" She says, opening the door and hopping into the back. She gets herself situated in the car seat and buckles up. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"You have fun?"

"Yes, we painted for a little and then we played outside." She reaches into her bag, pulls out a piece of construction paper. "I made this."

"A true masterpiece," House takes the drawing of what he thinks are unicorns. "This is my mom, by the way."

"Your mom?" Rachel questions, looking perplexed. "Really?"

Blythe turns around and smiles at her. "Hi, Rachel."

"Hi. If you're House's mom, are you my grandma?"

"Yes, I suppose I am."

"Cool," Rachel decides, then turns back to House. "Is your dad coming, too?"

"Nope. He's dead."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You didn't kill him."

"My mama's dad is dead too," Rachel casually tells Blythe. "He had a stroke. A stroke is when the blood gets blocked from going to your brain. You don't always die from one, but a lot of times you do."

"Oh yes," Blythe snarks. "She's clearly nothing like you."

/—


"This thing is amazing," Cuddy says, comfortably wrapped around her new pillow that night. "You doing okay?"

"It's weird that she's here."

Blythe decided to stay over and head home early tomorrow. The four of them had a relatively nice evening together and got through dinner without much awkwardness, despite the rocky start to the visit.

"How was it with her when you picked up Rachel?" Cuddy asks.

"Fine."

"It's okay if you can't fully forgive her, you know."

"It's not that exactly."

"You always say the world is shades of gray, right?"

"Yeah."

"So this shade of gray is that you love her, even though you're still hurt."

House, for the first time, acknowledges that he is still hurt, even if he doesn't know what to do with that feeling. "I don't blame her for what my dad did."

"I know that. And I think it's admirable."

"Did you like her?"

"I did," Cuddy admits. "I'm not sure how I feel about her role in your childhood, but she was great with Rachel."

"She'll probably be a harmless grandmother. It's not like she has to make any important decisions, all she has to do is show up with presents and call on birthdays."

"Personally I'm in favor of our kids having a non-Arlene grandparent to balance things out. Especially one who called me pretty three times tonight."

"She might be old, but she's not blind."

"I'd like to spend more time with her, if it's okay with you. We don't need to be best friends, but I'd like to talk to her occasionally."

"Whatever you want."

"No," Cuddy shakes her head. "How much you want her around this family is your decision. I'll support whatever you want."

House appreciates her lack of pressure, but doesn't think he can make a decision tonight. His mind wanders back to Arlene, to the people that made Cuddy. "What was your parents' marriage like?" he asks. "I know what Arlene is like, and you talk about your dad, but you never really talk about them as a couple."

"It probably won't surprise you to learn that Arlene ran the show. I think they loved each other, but it was all a bit...robotic."

"What do you mean?"

"My mom was determined to marry a doctor. She met my dad, converted, and then took care of everything at home while he worked crazy hours. I don't think I ever saw them have any fun together. I definitely never saw them be affectionate."

Maybe it makes sense that Cuddy sought out someone like him, the exact opposite of boring and robotic.

"My dad would've liked you though," Cuddy adds.

"Really? Dads aren't usually my forte."

"He would've found your job fascinating. He would've loved talking to you about it. And, believe it or not, he would've understood your sense of humor."

"My dad would've hated you."

Cuddy laughs. "Gee, thanks."

"It's a compliment," House reminds her. "A Jewish career woman who adopted a kid on her own? And my boss, no less. He would've hated everything about you and this relationship. Almost makes me sad he didn't live long enough to be pissed off about it."

"Our marriage will be nothing like your parents' marriage, or mine."

He's confident she's right. They may not be perfect, but they have all the ingredients their parents lacked: respect and fun and genuine affection.

House thinks that even though the rest of the world still appears in shades of gray to him, loving her is black and white.


9 months

(get what you need)

House almost didn't come to the appointment. With his patient getting worse, Cuddy insisted she would be okay to go to the check-up alone. It was supposed to be a simple matter of finding out if the baby made any progress turning, but House showed up anyway. Cuddy suspects maybe it's because he already knows the answer and wants to be at her side when she finds out. Either way, she's grateful that he's with her, because she has a gnawing gut feeling, maybe even a maternal instinct, that something is about to go wrong.

Brianna is quiet as she does the exam. House is quiet, too. Cuddy hates the quiet. She fills the emptiness with possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Finally, Brianna speaks. "The problem is your fluid is still low, which means the baby isn't going to be able to turn."

"So the infusion didn't work?" Cuddy asks, disappointed by the news.

"It worked in that it kept your baby healthy, but she still doesn't have enough room. I know you really wanted to do this, but I need to do what's safest for you and this baby."

"I want to do what's safest for the baby, too."

"I think we should go ahead with the C-section."

Cuddy already accepted it weeks ago, felt strongly that it was an inevitability. Still, she tried everything she could to make the baby turn: the pelvic tilt, inversion, acupuncture. House even tried to use music (if my kid is going to turn for anything, it'll be music, he said). But Cuddy knew in her heart that their child would be too stubborn. It's like Wilson said, how could she be anything else?

"When?" House asks, cutting to the bottom line.

"I think today would be best."

"Today?!" Cuddy sits up in shock. Of all the possibilities she prepared for, this wasn't one of them. "What are you talking about?!"

"I think the sooner, the better," Brianna says.

"She's right," House backs her up.

Cuddy feels a little ganged up on, and nowhere near emotionally or physically prepared for today to be the day. "Isn't it too early?"

"You know it's not," House says. "38 weeks isn't premature."

Obviously she does know that, has even told patients the very same thing, but she's grasping at straws trying to somehow change reality. Her hand unconsciously goes to her stomach, protective of her little girl.

"I have some scheduled deliveries before you so you have a few hours," Brianna briefly squeezes her shoulder for comfort. "I'm going to have Nurse Owens bring you to a room to get ready, but please page me directly if you need anything at all."

Everything sort of blurs for the next few minutes, Cuddy feels outside of her own body as they move to the next room. Nurse Owens tries to direct her, but House cuts in front, leading Cuddy himself. She's thinking through a million technicalities related to the procedure, like the last time she ate. Thankfully she only had yogurt for breakfast, so by the time they do the surgery, it will be more than eight hours since her last solid food.

"Just try to relax and get comfortable, Dr. Cuddy," Nurse Owens says before leaving. "I'll be back in a bit."

When the door closes, she frantically turns to House, grabbing him by the arm. "Relax?! She wants me to relax? How am I supposed to relax?"

"Because this is the right decision."

He's calm because he grounds himself in the science of it, but she's not there yet. "House," she says, voice cracking. "We're not ready. I'm not ready."

"We are. You are."

"I don't have any of my stuff."

"You've had your stuff packed in that bag for months. All we have to do is send someone to pick it up."

She tries to remember if she packed everything she'll need, and thinks about the last time she showered. "I… I didn't shave."

House smirks at her. "That's what you're worried about?"

She knows it sounds ridiculous, but when everything feels like it's spinning out of control, it's easier to focus on the little things she can do something about. "I was going to do it yesterday but I could hardly reach and you weren't home! You have to do it for me before I go in."

"You know they won't let you shave because of infection risks. They're supposed to clip."

"You're clipping. I don't want one of my nurses doing it. How am I supposed to sign their paychecks after that?"

"You sign my paychecks, but I know I'm the exception to all your rules."

"I'm just…I didn't plan to have a baby today."

"Well I didn't exactly plan to clip your pubic hair today."

The dry delivery makes Cuddy laugh despite her best efforts not to. "Please stop making jokes and being rational when I'm trying to have a breakdown. I thought we had at least three more weeks. I expected her to be late, if anything."

"You're freaking out because you're not in control right now. But you don't have a choice. We have to do this. You said you wouldn't feel okay until the baby was in your arms. Now, by tonight, you can feel okay."

The idea penetrates her irrationality. Cuddy has never been one to put things off, especially the things that scare or stress her out. Maybe this is the best thing that could happen — to get it over with and finally, finally be able to stop worrying.

"I wanted her to be late too," House adds. "I wanted you to get so impatient that you let me try to trigger labor with sex. Had it all planned out. Now I didn't even get to cherish the last time we had sex for what will be weeks and weeks and weeks."

"Sorry about that."

"It's fine. Are we surprised? Our spawn was always going to come into the world as dramatically as possible."

Suddenly, another thought crosses Cuddy's mind. "Our 'spawn' still doesn't have a name— another reason we're not ready."

But House is prepared for that, too. "She has a name."

"Really?" Cuddy softens. "What is it?"

"Olivia."

Cuddy sighs, and assumes he's still joking around. "For the last time, we're not naming our daughter after a cartoon pirate."

"And what's the profound meaning behind Rachel, exactly? An episode of Friends was playing in the background of her first night home?"

"That is so insulting. You know perfectly well I'm a Seinfeld girl."

"We won't call her Liv," House insists, and she realizes that he's completely serious. "We'll use the whole name. I know it started as a joke, but now every other name feels wrong to me."

"Damn it, House. This was your plan all along."

"I swear it wasn't."

"I don't believe you. I'm sure you had Rachel in on it, too."

"I did not. You asked me to pick the name, and this is the one I like."

She did want it to come from him, and the fact that it also means something to Rachel makes her consider it. "Olivia," she says out loud, testing how it sounds.

"A lot of people attribute the name to Shakespeare, because it was in Twelfth Night. But in Hebrew it means lioness, which you know our kid is going to be. Plus, I checked with Arlene and she said it's Jewish enough."

Clearly he's given thought to it way beyond the cartoon. "You called my mom?"

"I knew if she didn't give it the stamp of approval, she'd go back to trying to convert me. This is a lot easier."

"Olivia House," Cuddy says.

"Olivia Cuddy-House works, too. I don't think we ever decided."

"Rachel and Olivia House."

This time, when she says it, it's like she can see their future together probably playing pirates in the backyard, laughing and covered in mud, but also loving and caring for each other like sisters should. "I think I love it."

"And I think we just had a life-changing conversation that wasn't in a bathroom."

"Somehow a hospital room isn't much better."

House scoffs. "What do you want from me? Candle lit dinners?"

"I love you," she says, overcome with emotion. "So much."

"Yeah, yeah," he teases back, which is simply another form of their love language. "I bet you say that to all your baby daddies."

"Only the ones who clip my pubic hair before a C-section."

House kisses her. "You should change, and I should go talk to my team."

"You're leaving me?!"

"Only for a minute. I have to tell them what's going on and send someone to get your stuff."

"Tell my assistant what's going on, too. I had a bunch of meetings this afternoon. Maybe I could call in while I'm wait…"

"Don't make me hide your phone," House warns. "Maternity leave starts now and that's what I'm telling your assistant."

"Fine." She lets go of his arm. "Just don't take too long, okay?"

"I won't."

—/—


The second House steps into the hallway, the façade comes crumbling down. His job is to keep Cuddy calm, because Olivia needs her to be, which means he has to pretend he's calm, too. In reality, House is equally freaked out and unprepared for this to happen today. He knew that the baby hadn't turned yet, but he wasn't expecting Dr. McArthur to make this call. The giant to-do list Cuddy gave him for the nursery is only half-finished. And worse, he didn't have time to mentally brace himself to see Cuddy - his Cuddy - under the knife.

He puts one foot in front of the other and makes his way to his office. He opens the door, walks towards the desk, and sits down in his chair. He knows that Dr. McArthur is actually being smart and overly cautious with this decision, because it lessens the risk for something to happen during a complicated delivery. If Cuddy were a stranger and a patient of his, he would mock her and her family for being worried about a procedure that happens hundreds of thousands of times a day. But Cuddy is Cuddy. His Cuddy. And he feels the weight of everything she's worried about for nine long months, and all the promises he made, heavy on his shoulders.

His team notices his return and joins him in the inner office. "House?" Chase tries to get his attention. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer, continues to stare straight ahead, attempting to shut out thoughts of Cuddy bleeding out on the table, of his baby being born without breath. All things he's seen before, which makes it all too easy to transfer the images.

"What's happening right now?" Foreman asks. "Why are you catatonic?"

Wilson walks in then, solving the mystery for them. "He's about to have a baby," he says, holding up his cell phone. "Cuddy texted me."

Thirteen tilts her head in confusion. "I thought she had a few weeks left?"

"Baby is breech," Wilson explains. "Plus low amniotic fluid, so they're doing a C-section today."

House wants to be left alone and his first instinct is to yell at them to get the hell out. All of them would listen, except for Wilson, and he would be ten times less overwhelmed. But for some godforsaken reason, Arlene's words from months ago echo in his mind. You two don't have to be an island, she said. Maybe now — in the middle of the chaos— is the time to stop trying to be.

"I need..." House starts, but the words momentarily get stuck in his throat, because they're so unfamiliar. "I need help."

The room goes silent.

"Okay," Chase tentatively answers. It's only because it's about Cuddy that they believe he might really be asking and not messing with them. "What can we do?"

House takes his keys off the desk and throws them to Chase who catches them. "Go get the packed duffle bag in Cuddy's closet and bring it back here."

"Sure."

"What else?" Thirteen asks.

"You're Rachel's favorite member of my team. She gets out at school at three. Can you pick her up and bring her to the hospital?"

"Of course. She's at Brye Park?"

"Yeah. Tell her you're picking her up because we're stuck at work. I want to be the one to tell her about the baby, so text me when you get here."

"You got it."

"Taub and Foreman —go talk to Cuddy's assistant, figure out what to do with her meetings for the rest of the day, and tell him to send all her calls to voicemail. Then I need all of you to keep the patient alive. We need that blood work. If it comes back positive for infection…"

Taub nods. "We know what to do."

"And keep your damn mouths shut. The only people that need to know this is happening are in this room. I don't want every nosey idiot in this hospital showing up outside Cuddy's door. This isn't a free show. We're not selling tickets."

They agree to keep it on the downlow and then scurry off on their assignments. Predictably, Wilson stays behind. "You sure you don't want me to get Rachel?"

He's likely confused about why he wasn't given something to do, but Wilson has perhaps the most important job of all. "I need you here."

"For what?"

"To make sure I don't fucking lose it."

"House— there's no reason to worry."

"I need them to be okay. Both of them. They have to be okay."

"They will be."

After all this time, it's still surreal. "I can't believe any of this is happening."

"You better start believing, because the next time you leave this hospital, you're going to have a baby."

"I also need to find a pair of sterile clippers."

"What? Why?"

"Cuddy doesn't want the nurses doing it."

"Doing wh—" Wilson starts to ask, and then understands. "I didn't need to know that."

"Just thinking out loud here."

"Let's go," Wilson pulls him up. "Time to go meet your next prodigy."

"Her name is Olivia."

—/—


Cuddy tries to tell herself that she's strong, but her body doesn't want to listen. She can't stop shaking as the nurses in the OR insert IVs and check her blood sugar. Hot tears stream down her face. She thinks of Olivia, and wants to be brave for her, but keeps imagining ways she might fail her instead.

"Lisa," Brianna says softly, "I know I took you by surprise today, but I really need you to calm down."

Having the baby at her own hospital was a mistake. She hates her employees seeing her like this. They're supposed to respect and fear her. She doesn't know how anyone in this room ever will again. Her muscles are trembling, and her teeth are chattering so much that she can barely swallow the antacid she needs to take. If she doesn't stop, they're going to sedate her. After 9 months of physical hell, she's not missing the birth of their child.

"Hey," House appears by her side after supervising her spinal anesthesia. "You know that tunnel vision thing you get with me?"

"You know about that?"

"Of course I do."

"Of course you do," she repeats.

"So look at me and block out everything else, including the fact that you're about to be sliced open."

"I don't want you to worry about me," Cuddy protests, because as much as she wants him next to her the whole time, she wants him completely focused on the birth. "Just watch Olivia."

"I can do both," House promises. "I'm very talented." He takes one step back so that from where he's standing, he can talk directly to her and still oversee the surgery. "I'd hold your hand, but I don't want to contaminate, in case I have to jump in."

Cuddy blindly trusted House a million times before they were together. She regularly put her job in his unsteady hands, believed he would get the outcome he wanted, even when it seemed impossible. If she trusted him then, before the kids and the ring and the merging into one unit, she can trust him now. House said he'd get her through this, and she has no reason to doubt him. It's not a blind trust, like it used to be, when she hoped she wouldn't be brought down with him. It's a trust grounded in love that's been tested time and time again, and one that always makes her better.

"Okay," she says. "I'm ready."

"Go ahead," House tells Brianna. "I've got her."

Cuddy feels the pressure, and knows it's starting, which makes her want to panic again, but House intervenes. "Did I tell you that we think my patient has Alice in Wonderland syndrome?"

"R-really?"

"Yeah, never had a case before, so it's pretty cool. For me. Not for her. She's having migraines and crazy hallucinations."

"Is there…" Cuddy starts to ask, but when she feels more pressure, she loses her train of thought.

House refocuses her. "Is there what, Cuddy?"

"A family history?"

"Nope."

"Tumor?"

"We did an MRI. No brain tumor."

The smells and sounds of the OR inundate her senses, the whirring of machines and scent of disinfectant, but what could be more natural than talking to House about a case? She stares at the familiar lines on his face, hones in on his eyes, and focuses on the challenge he's presented to her. For a moment, she forgets she's on the operating table.

"Epilepsy?" She tries again.

"She's never had a seizure. My team also claims she hasn't taken any drugs, though I'm not sure why they believe her."

"Isn't she like nine years old?"

"Your point?"

"A nine-year-old isn't on hallucinogens."

"You don't know that."

"That's only four years older than Rachel. The likelihood…"

"Not every kid has such attentive parents who would know if their nine-year-old was on drugs."

"What about infection causing it?"

"That was my thought," House agrees. "We're testing now."

"It could be Lyme disease or mono or…."

"I was leaning towards mono before I got rudely interrupted by the birth of our daughter."

"And I'm sure you'll spend the rest of her life making sure she knows that."

"Foreman should have the results soon. We could bet. If it's mono you add fifty diaper changes to the fifty you already owe. If she has Lyme disease, we call it even."

"If she has Lyme, my debt is erased, and you do the first twenty diaper changes."

"Normally I wouldn't agree to such ridiculous terms but given the fact that I can see your insides right now, I think that's a fair deal."

"How do they look?" She asks facetiously.

"Sexiest uterus I've ever seen."

"Dr. House?" Brianna interrupts them. "We just suctioned the amniotic fluid, I assume you want to be closer for what happens next."

House hesitates for a brief second, but Cuddy wants nothing more than for him to be the first face their daughter sees. "He does," she answers, never looking away from him. "Go get our girl."

—/—


Despite his god-like faith in his own abilities, House is fully planning to let Dr. McArthur finish the delivery. He doesn't want to do anything to piss her off or risk an argument that will stress Cuddy out. It's not like he's an expert on breech babies being delivered via C-section, so he's content to stand by, supervise every move, and only act if he needs to.

But Dr. McArthur has something else in mind. "Don't you want to do the honors?"

House is shocked by the proposal. "What happened to setting boundaries for the delivery?"

"I already did the hard part and intend to close solo, but if you want to deliver her, she's right there, waiting for her dad."

Sure enough, when House looks down, he can see Olivia's skin. She's engaged in the pelvis, and the breech position is obvious, but House isn't going to turn down the once in a lifetime opportunity he's been offered. Amazingly, he doesn't feel nervous, only determined to do this, to come through for his daughter in the first seconds of her life.

He maneuvers her tiny body back and forth and then slowly, carefully lifts her out. Just like that, Olivia enters the world. She's in his arms, and Dr. McArthur is right there, suctioning fluids out of her nose and mouth.

"House?!" Cuddy calls out. "Is she okay?!"

Olivia answers for herself when she starts wailing, loud and healthy. What House feels is so instant, so big, and so indescribable. The world stops, and there's no one but Olivia and the pure devotion he feels.

After a quick inspection by nurses, he gets the go ahead to bring Olivia over to Cuddy. The only thing better than getting to deliver his daughter, is getting to be the one to hand her to her mother for the very first time. During those first few weeks of the pregnancy, when Cuddy was sick, House's leg ached from seeing her in pain. Now, connected by the child they made, he feels what she feels all over again. He feels her relief, her awe, her gratitude. He also knows what she knows — that nothing will ever be the same for them.

"Oh my god," Cuddy cries, the second Olivia is on her chest. "We did it."

But House doesn't want any of the credit. "No," he says, one hand on Olivia's back, the other on Cuddy's cheek. "You did it."

And he swears it's like all three of their hearts beat as one.

—/—


Back in the hospital room, Cuddy is in a complete love haze. She holds Olivia in her arms, and smells the top of her head, which is covered in dark brown locks. Despite the physical pain — the exhaustion and soreness — it's the best she's felt since before she got pregnant. The relief is so overwhelming and yet somehow still doesn't come close to the utter wholeness she feels.

"She has so much hair," House says, sitting right next to the bed, and holding on to two of Olivia's tiny fingers. "Thought she was going to pop out bald."

"She's so little," Cuddy adds, marveling at all six pounds of her. "Look at your hand next to her whole body."

"She looks like you."

"Really? I think she looks like you."

Cuddy is sure she sees House's cheeks and nose staring back at her.

"Are you kidding me? Those are your eyes— shape and color."

"I was rooting for your eyes," Cuddy admits. "But it's kind of funny how everyone always thinks Rachel has your eyes, and now maybe Olivia has mine."

The door to their room is closed, with the blinds fully drawn for privacy, so Cuddy holds her breath when she hears it start to creek open. Thankfully, it's only Wilson, holding a giant teddy bear and balloon. "That's amazing," Cuddy smiles when she sees him. "Rachel still has the duck you got her."

"I figured it was time to add to the collection."

House isn't interested in the presents though, and is focused instead on important introductions. "Put down the damn bear and come meet your goddaughter."

"House," Wilson laughs at the title, as he ties the pink balloon to the end of the bed. "You're an atheist. "

"And?"

"And everyone else in this room is Jewish."

"Still not seeing your point."

Cuddy understands what Wilson is getting at. "I think his point is that we don't need to assign someone to pass on the love of Jesus in the event that we both drop dead?"

"Whatever. I'm going with the secular, honorary version of the term. I know for a fact that's allowed."

Cuddy would never deprive him of any excitement related to this day. "If it makes you happy, Wilson can be the 'godfather,' even though he's already her uncle."

"Julia's annoying husband is also technically her uncle. Wilson needs a special title since we all know he will be aggressively involved in her life, whether we want him to or not."

Wilson sneers at the implication. "As if you don't want me involved in her life."

House gently takes Olivia from Cuddy's arms, and though she instantly misses the contact, it's sweet to see him hand their daughter off to their best friend, someone who will always love her unconditionally.

"You're Rachel's godfather too, by the way," House adds. "Retroactive instillation of duties."

"She's unbelievably gorgeous," Wilson says. "So clearly she takes after Cuddy."

"Ha-ha." Before House can get a more vicious rebuttal in, his phone goes off in his pocket. "Rachel's here," he says, after looking at the message. "I'm going to go get her from Thirteen."

When Cuddy is alone with Wilson, he looks at her with the pride of a brother. "I told you it was going to be okay."

"But you should've seen me. I was a complete disaster in there."

"I doubt that very much."

"It's true. I was terrified. I couldn't stop shaking."

"I think it's actually more brave when you're scared of something but manage to do it anyway."

"Look at you with that god-fatherly wisdom."

"House was two seconds away from a meltdown."

Cuddy finds it hard to believe, considering his strength and demeanor in the OR. "If he was, he didn't show it."

"Because he was focused on you. You two always do this."

"Do what? Have an unplanned pregnancy?"

"Take care of each other without the other one knowing. Except I always know. It's a cool thing to witness."

"He's been taking care of me for nine months. I don't know how much I take care of him."

"What meds are they giving you for the pain?" Wilson asks.

"Acetaminophen and ibuprofen. Why?"

"See, I knew you would say that, even though you just had major surgery and I'm sure they offered you opioids."

"It's not a big deal," she downplays, now understanding where he's going with this.

"I don't want them anyway."

"But I know you wouldn't take them, even if you were in excruciating pain, because you wouldn't want to tempt him."

"It's common sense not to have temptation sitting around the house, especially during a huge life transition."

"I'm not saying I disagree, but don't tell me you don't take care of him."

Just then, the door opens again, and Foreman pops his head into the room without fully entering. "Hey—congratulations."

But there's no way Foreman, of all people, is here to congratulate her. "Are you looking for House?"

"Yeah," he admits. "She's adorable though."

"Thank you. He should be back in a minute. Do you want to wait?"

"Can you just tell him he was right about the case and we're going to start treatment?"

Cuddy remembers the girl with Alice in Wonderland syndrome. "It was mono?"

"Nope. Lyme disease. Just like House thought it was."

Except, in the OR, House said he thought it was mono. She knows she was out of it, but she remembers his words vividly. It can only mean that he lost the bet on purpose. At first she thinks it's not a very House-like thing to do. But then she reconsiders. House, knowing she was going to be recovering from surgery, manipulated the situation to make sure she didn't owe her original debt, without her having to ask.

She looks at Olivia, cozy in Wilson's arms, and cannot even fathom the crazy things House will do for her throughout her life. The lengths he will go to keep her happy and safe— the things he'll do without any of them ever knowing. It's an endearing benefit of loving and being loved by House.

Perhaps, as usual, Wilson has a worthy point.

—/—


House walks down the hallway with Rachel, who assumes they're simply going to his office, and contemplates how to break the big news. Getting to be the one to tell Rachel is an awesome privilege, and he decides not to overthink it. With Rachel the best way to go about things is usually honesty.

"Guess what?" He says casually.

"What?"

"Your sister was born."

"No," Rachel answers with confidence. "My sister is being born in a few weeks."

Rachel has had the due date memorized for months, so he's not surprised she doesn't believe him.

"She was supposed to be born in a few weeks, but we needed to take her out today because she was upside down."

"Upside down?!" Rachel questions with concern.

"Yeah, sometimes babies get stuck in the wrong position and they have to come out early."

"Is she okay?"

"She's great."

"Do I get to see her?"

"That's where we're going right now."

"Did you name her?"

"Olivia."

Rachel stops short and looks up at him. "Really?!"

"Yeah, but you have to remember you're not Liv and Nessa. You're Rachel and Olivia, which is better."

"Thank you," she hugs his leg. "This is the best day of my whole life."

House remembers Cuddy's initial worry that Rachel might ever feel less than, and thinks maybe he can squash that possibility in advance.

"Did you know sometimes sisters get jealous of new babies? I doubt you'll feel that way, because you're smart enough to know babies need attention or they die."

"Yeah 'cause they can't feed themselves or anything."

"But it's okay if you do ever feel that way. You can talk to me about it. When your mom first got you I was jealous."

"You were?"

"Yup, because I want all her attention. Then I realized you need some of it, and now we know how to share her. You should also remember you're the oldest, so you'll always be the boss, which is a good position to be in."

"Okay I'll tell you if I get sad, but I don't think I will."

They approach Cuddy's room, and House has one last warning. "You also have to be gentle with your mom— she had to have surgery to get Olivia out safely."

"She's hurt?"

"She's sore. You know how you're careful with my leg? You have to be like that with her whole body for the next couple of weeks."

"I will be."

House opens the door and Rachel goes running into the room. She stops right at the edge of the bed and composes herself, being as careful as House asked her to be.

"Hi baby," Cuddy welcomes her. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Hi mama," Rachel stands on her tippy toes, trying to get the best view possible. "Hi Olivia."

"Do you want to hold her?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, why don't you sit with House?"

House sits on the chair, and Rachel climbs into his lap. Cuddy passes Olivia to House, who helps Rachel hold her. He has both of his daughters in his arms, another first, and another indescribable moment.

"Hi, sissy." Rachel says. "I love you."

House gets teary eyed, overcome by what he feels for all three of them. He tries to blink it away before Cuddy notices. Of course, she sees him like she always does. He waits for her to tease him at least a little, but she gets teary eyed too.

"I want you to remember this feeling on the days you think you can't do it," she says. "Because, right now, it's so clear to me that your capacity to love us is infinite."

—/—


Three days later, early in the morning, House comes into Cuddy's hospital room with good news. "You're officially cleared to go home, mom."

Cuddy sighs the biggest sigh of relief. "I can't wait to get the hell out of here."

"I know, right? What a shithole. You should complain to the Dean of Medicine or something."

House knows it isn't really about the hospital. It's that Cuddy hates being cooped up and sitting still. She wants to get home to their own bed, to settle Olivia into the nursery, to be reunited with Rachel. He can't say he blames her.

Cuddy looks up from staring at Olivia in her arms and notices what House has brought with him. "Why do you have a wheelchair?"

"Because I'm wheeling you out of this joint."

"I don't need that. I've been walking around plenty."

"You had surgery, you're going out in the wheelchair. You can think of it as our final role reversal if you want."

"Then we need to leave before eight, so I don't have to deal with a million gawking employees."

House sees that Olivia is wearing the pink I wasn't Lupus onesie from his team. "Don't tell me she's wearing that home."

"Oh, she is."

"Come on. At least put the leather jacket over it."

"It's too hot for the leather jacket. Plus, this is more motivation for you to get me out of here as fast as possible."

House starts gathering her remaining stuff, shoving it in the duffle bag without bothering to fold or organize anything. The fact that Cuddy doesn't give him grief about it is proof of how badly she wants to leave.

"You gonna miss being pregnant?" He asks her.

"Absolutely not. What's there to miss? The vomiting, reflux, fatigue, anxiety?"

"I think I'm going to miss pregnant Cuddy."

"You're going to miss me waking up a hundred times a night to pee, constantly crying, and sweating like a 200-pound man?"

"Well not those parts."

"Fear not, House. The pregnancy boobs will stick around for a while."

They are a nice benefit, but what he might really get nostalgic for is this time in their lives, how it changed them, and what it gave them.

"Lemme look at you quick before we go."

He pulls down her loose sweatpants to examine her stitches, which are healing nicely.

"I'm going to have a really ugly scar," Cuddy complains.

"Frankly I was tired of being the only person in this relationship with one."

"Yours isn't ugly."

"And you think this tiny little line is? Plus, at least we got something from yours, all I got was a limp and a drug addiction."

"No. We got something from yours, too."

"What?"

"Here," she says seriously. "We got here."

He understands what she means, cheesy as it may be. Michigan. The infarction. Mayfield. Trenton. If one single thing had been different, who knows if they'd be in this room about to bring their daughter home to her sister. House can berate himself for his past mistakes, can curse their years of bad timing and how they let fear own them for so long, but he can't really wish for things to have been any different.

"Don't get all philosophical on me when we're in the middle of perfectly good banter, Cuddy."

"I admit I'm no Jagger."

The reference is a joke, but it makes him stop and think. He's always been searching for more. More puzzles. More Vicodin. More ways to suppress the pain. But now?

Cuddy. Rachel. Olivia.

For so long he didn't have the capacity to understand, let alone express, that this family was what he wanted. But, for the first time in his life, House has everything he needs.